Harry Potter and The Betrayer of Time
by melihobbit
Summary: Lily Flanagan, a girl with strange powers, is transferred
1. The Girl In The Corridor

**Chapter One**

**The Girl In the Corridoor**

A gentle breeze ruffled Harry's dark hair back from his forehead, tickling the zigzag shaped scar above his left eye as he stared out the classroom window. Across the grounds he could see a corner of the quidditch pictch, where every so often a small figure would zoom into view, one of the chasers for Ravenclaw's quidditch team who were at

practice. Somewhere in the background he could hear Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, droning on about the second Goblin Wars. He seemed to be speaking from a long distance away, and the sound grew fainter and fainter as Harry's eyes struggled to stay open. He could hear the soft shouts of the players on the quidditch field drifting across the grounds and up to his window.

Hermione nudged him, half-heartedly, knowing he wouldn't take in anything Professor Binns said anyway, and she would have to share her notes with him and Ron later, but wishing he would make a bit of an effort. He looked around. Ron was leaning on his table, idly chewing the end of his pencil and looking for all the world about as bored as Harry felt. It was the first day of term. This was one of the most boring classes on the school timetable, but he was grateful he didn't have his first Potions lesson of the year until Wednesday, which was two days from now.

Eventually Professor Binns finished his speech and reminded them all to read chapters ten and twelve, then turned and glided neatly through his desk, and pushed his notes into a neat pile, signaling the end of the lesson.

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked down to the great hall for lunch.

"I really wish you two would pay attention sometimes," Herminone said irritably. "Honestly, it's only the first day of term, and already I'M going to have to do most of your work for you."

"It's not our fault History of Magic is so boring," Ron said casually. "If there are any insomniacs in our class they'll all be cured after that lesson."

Harry grinned. "Hey Ron, want to go and practice some quidditch with me later?"

"Yeah, I've been dying to get on a broomstick again. You know that Cleansweep mum bought me? Fred and George put a Hurling Hex on it during the holidays, as a joke... so it would throw me off everytime I tried to get on it... and then mum confiscated it-" Harry looked crestfallen- "Yeah, I know- she said it was too dangerous and locked it in a cupboard. I wasn't allowed to use it all through the holidays until dad found a way of taking the curse off. Fred and George thought it was _hilarious."_

"Don't you two ever think about anything else?" Hermione snapped. Then her face took a look of intense concentration. "What did you think of that new teacher? Professor Finchley?"

Harry remembered the Sorting Ceremony that had taken place that morning, and how Dumbledore had introduced the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher afterwards. His name, Dumbledore had said, was Aurian Finchley. He was tall and thin with very long, greasy, black hair (which reminded Harry unpleasantly of Snape- though Snape's was much shorter), and wore a strange dark dusty overcoat with a big metal buckle on the front of it, scuffed brown leather jeans, and black boots. Most interesting of all, however, was his face, which was partially hidden by a long fringe. He had a severe-looking face, a long nose and a very thin pale scar running under one eye. Harry recalled how his eyes, looking like cold grey chips of ice, had wandered around the great hall as he was being introduced, as if searching the faces there. He had given the room a curt nod and sat back down without speaking.

"I think he looks like a psychopath," Ron said dejectedly. "He'll probably get on well with Snape."

Hermione glanced at Ron. "I think he'll be interesting."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. All of our Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers have been interesting. Remember Umbridge?" He made a conscious effort not to glance at the back of his hand, where the faint scars of Umbridge's quill still showed pale against his skin.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let someone like that teach us again," Hermione said firmly. "He had no choice giving Umbridge the job. Anyway... I think Professor Finchley's nice. He said hello to me in the entrance hall this morning."

Ron shot Harry a doubtful look, but decided it was better to keep his opinions to himself. They reached the end of the passage and were turning to exit onto the grand staircase when Harry happened to glance back down to the end of the hall, which was filled with people. Sunlight streamed in through a wide window at the end of the corridor and students were filing out of a classroom door into its bright white glare. One of them, a girl, her blonde hair seeming to glow in the afternoon sunlight, looked around and her blue-grey eyes met Harry's bright green ones, and he wondered who she was and why he had never noticed her around before- she was wearing Gryffindor robes.

Then he was pushed along behind Hermione and Ron by a tide of students bustling past him in the corridor, and she disappeared from sight.


	2. A New Arrival

**Chapter Two**

**A New Arrival**

That night Ron and Harry made their way back across the grounds and into the the entrance hall. It had rained the previous day and the ground had been muddy, and as a consequence they were both extremely filthy (Ron more so, after having fallen off his broom in an attempt to catch the quaffle. It had been thrown into the goal by Harry, who was playing a chaser in the absence of their team-mates, who had all been otherwise occupied). They were stopped on the way across the hall by McGonagall, who was on her way up to Gryffindor Tower, and who reprimanded them for slopping mud across the floor.

"If Mr Filch sees you..." she muttered, and then performed a complicated swishing motion with her wand. Harry glanced down to see that his shoes and the hem of his robes were clean and completely mud-free. She repeated the wand-flick on Ron, and then replaced it into a fold in her robe.

"You two better follow me up to the common room," she said briskly. "I want all Gryffindor students to be present. I have an announcement to make." That said, she spun around and started up the stairs. Harry and Ron glanced at each other, and then fell into step behind her.

They didn't speak on the way up, and finally arrived at the portrait hole on the seventh floor.

"Fiddlesticks," McGonagall said loudly, and the Fat Lady swung backward obediently, allowing them passage.

The common room was packed full of students, who had already been notified of this meeting by a n announcement pinned to the noticeboard. Hermione bounced on her tip toes to sight them over the crowd, and then pushed her way through.

"I thought you weren't going to come," she said warningly. "Didn't you see the notice?"

"No," Harry said. They had returned to the dormitory after the last lesson only to pick up their brooms, and had then gone straight down to the quidditch pitch.

Hermione clicked her tongue and then turned to McGonagall and fell silent. McGonagall moved to the center of the room and motioned, unnecessarily for quiet.

"I have called you all here to announce the arrival of a new student into Gryffindor. She was transferred here from another school and has undergone a private sorting ceremony just this morning." McGonagall then smiled at someone in the crowd and beckoned them to come forward.

A girl stepped reluctantly up to McGonagall's side and faced the other students. Harry realised at once that it was the same girl he had seen in the corridor that morning.

"This is Lily Flanagan."

Parvati and Lavender smiled at her excitedly. "Can she stay in our room Miss?" Lavender piped.

"She has already been assigned a room."

Hermione looked indifferently at the girl, unable to tell whether she would be an interesting study partner or not.

"I would ask you to make Miss Flanagan feel as welcome as possible, and please have some consideration for her feelings- do not ask too many questions. I'm sure she feels nervous enough coming into a new school in her sixth year. So please, keep questions to a minimum and make her feel comfortable."

McGongall turned to Lily and smiled. "I think you will find our Gryffindor students very easy to get along with, Lily. You'll fit in just fine."

Professor McGonagall nodded at the students and gave Lily's shoulder a little pat. "Now, I'll leave you all to get accquainted." She moved to the door and stepped through it.

Immediately a crowd of girls surged towards Lily, and steered her to a chair by the fire, where she sat and began answering their questions. Hermione, Ron, and Harry lingered at the edge of the group.

"Should we go and say hello?" Harry asked, not feeling as though he wanted to, and very glad he didn't have Parvati and Lavender simpering over him.

"You'll never get near her with that lot there," Ron said.

"Anyway, I'll have plenty of time to say hello later- she is in my dormitory," Hermione added. "Why don't we get started on that History of Magic homework?"

Ron and Harry both groaned, in such uncanny succession that they burst out laughing. "It's the _first day of term,_ Hermione," Ron said. "At least give us a chance to put our brains back in."

They made their way across the room to a spare group of chairs, and sank into them. Hermione kept looking over her shoulder at the group around Lily. "Funny that she was transferred in her _sixth_ year," she mused.

"Maybe her parents moved," Harry said.

"I heard she doesn't have any parents."

Ron and Harry both looked at her. "Who told you that?" Ron asked.

"Parvati ."

Ron snorted. Hermione didn't seem to notice. "And why did she need a private sorting ceremony?"

"Well... It would have looked a bit funny, wouldn't it- if she got up there in front the school with all the first years. Talk about embarrassing," Ron said. He had taken a pile of chocolate frog cards out of his pocket and was shuffling through them. "Harry, have you got Merlin?" Harry shook his head, watching Hermione with amusement. Realizing that they had no other juicy input concerning Lily Flanagan, she crossed her arms.

"Well I think it's odd."


	3. Defence Against The Dark Arts

**Chapter Three**

**Defence Against the Dark Arts**

The next day they ate breakfast in the Great Hall (porridge, toast, eggs, sausages and pumpkin juice), and Harry wasn't surprised when the messenger owls flew in and Hedwig wasn't among them. He had no-one to write to him (he still tried not to think of Sirius, it left a cold, empty void in the pit of his stomach) unless there was urgent news from no. twelve, Grimmauld Place- the headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix- and even if there was, he knew Dumbledore would tell him. Ron's owl, Errol, flopped down onto the table and Ron sighed as he untied the letter from his owl's leg.

"It's from mum," he said before he had even opened it. "I mean really, I've been gone two days, you'd think she could lay off about the broomstick."

"What about it?" Harry asked through a mouthful of sausages.

"She still thinks it might go berserk and throw me off. She didn't trust dad's counter-spell. She told me not to play quidditch until I'd had it checked out by one of the teachers."

Hermione had her face buried in the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, and wasn't listening to them.

Ron had unfolded his letter and glanced through it. He dropped it onto the table and shrugged. "Thought so."

Harry looked at Hermione over the top of the newspaper. "Anything interesting in there?" He asked.

She glanced up and sighed. "The usual nonsense. Nothing really interesting." She briskly folded the paper and returned to her eggs.

They finished their breakfast, and then headed off for class. The first lesson was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, followed by Divination and then Defence Against the Dark Arts after lunch. Harry noticed the new student, Lily Flanagan, sitting slightly apart from the rest of the class during Divination. Professor Trelawney made a great display of 'reading her aura' and announced to the class that she had 'exeptional psychic ability'. Meanwhile, Lily sank back into her seat, looking uncomfortable, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route.

The day wore on. They went and ate lunch in the Great Hall, and then trudged up the stairs to Defence Against the Dark Arts. When they arrived the classroom was empty except for other students, who were shuffling into rows behind the desks set up around the room.

Harry slid in beside Ron, with Hermione on Ron's other side. They unloaded their books and looked around expectantly.

The door swung open and a tall, dark figure swept into the room, his coat swishing out behind him. Hermione tried to cough gracefully as wave of dusty-smelling air wafted past her, and succeeded in turning bright red and nearly choking herself.

Professor Finchley strode to the front of the class in what seemed like three huge steps, then dumped a large package he had been carrying under his arm onto the desk. Puffs of dust rose from it. It looked to Harry like a large leather book with a handle on the side. Finchley opened it and drew out a smaller book, _A Guide to Demonology,_ copies of which each student had among their other materials for this class.

Finchley dropped the book on the top of the large suitcase/book with handles, raising yet more dust from its leather cover, and surveyed the class with glittering grey eyes.

"Take out this book," he said, tilting the cover up so they could read it upside-down. His voice was quiet and very hoarse. "Turn to page 89. Read the chapter on Vampires."

He then threw the hem of his cloak back and sat down at the desk, laced his hands together and surveyed the class through his greasy black fringe.

"It's going to be another long year," Ron said under his breath, and Harry grinned as he took out the book and flipped through it. Two rows in front of him, Lily Flanagan was also flicking through her book. He stared at the back of her head, admiring the way her hair fell down to her shoulders in gentle waves.

Harry looked back down at his book and began to read.

"Which one of you is Harry Potter?" Finchley said suddenly.

Harry's stomach dropped, and he felt instantly guilty, for no apparent reason. He hadn't done anything wrong yet, surely. He raised his hand to chin-height, and then dropped it quickly. Finchley was staring at him with intense curiosity. His heart sank.

"Ah," Finchley said shortly, a small smile curving his thin lips. "Nice to know I'm in such esteemed company." He gave a brief nod. "Good to meet you, Harry."

Harry stared back, at a loss for words, and aware that he looked quite foolish with his mouth hanging slightly open, but unable to help it. He had never been introduced like that to a teacher before. He thought Ron he might have to rethink his opinion of Professor Finchley.

Everyone was staring at either Harry or Finchley. "Carry on," Finchley rasped, and they did. Harry looked down at his book, his face feeling hot. Hermione seemed secretly pleased with herself.


	4. Potions and Nightmares

**Chapter Four**

**Potions and Nightmares**

When Harry and had dressed and made their way down to the common room the next morning, the room was full of small groups of people sitting in loose groups talking quietly to each other. While that wasn't altogether strange, the look on Hermione's face was as she leaped up from a chair next to which some of the other girls from her dormitory were talking, and hurried over to meet Harry and Ron.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked immmediately. Hermione looked tired and her hair was even bushier than usual, as if she had forgotten to brush it properly.

"I didn't get much sleep last night," she said, and stifled a yawn. "Lily woke us up. I'll tell you about it at breakfast."

They went down to the Great Hall where many students were already seated and eating. Harry slid into a chair and looked at Hermione curiously.

"So? What happened?" He prodded.

"Well, we got woken up in the middle of the night by Lily- screaming her head off. She was awake when I got up, and sitting on her bed crying, and one of the girls went to fetch Madam Pomfrey."

Harry's spoon had paused halfway to his mouth and now hovered there. "What was she... screaming about?"

"I don't know. She had a nightmare, obviously."

"Must have been a _really_ bad nightmare," Ron said dubiously.

"Did she say anything about it?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "No. Madam Pomfrey took her straight to the hospital wing. I suppose she spent the night there. I didn't really ask her what it was about, you know- she was very upset." She dipped her spoon into her porridge and began to eat.

Harry stared down at his toast. He remembered all the times he had woken others up in the night with his screaming. Was it a coincidence that the exact same thing should happen to Lily on the second night of her arrival at Hogwarts?

Harry didn't think about Lily again until Potions that day. He had been dreading seeing Snape again, but was determined not to let him ruin this year for him. He followed Ron and Hermione down to the dungeons where a large group of Slytherins were (as always) gathered outside the Potions classroom. His enemy, Draco Malfoy was among them.

Harry tried to avoid his eye for as long as possible. Life with Malfoy was bound to become more unpleasant since Harry had identified Draco's father as one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, but mercifully he had not seen him since the end of last year and had thus far managed to avoid him at school. He deliberately turned his back and faced away from Malfoy. Thankfully the Slytherins were too involved in their own conversation to notice him.

A few moments later Snape strode down the corridor, his black cloak sweeping behind him, and making the torches along the hallway flicker in his wake.

"Quiet," he snapped, and the murmur of voices fell instantly dim. "Inside, now."

Harry and the others filed into the classroom. As he took his seat Harry looked across and saw Lily Flanagan enter the classroom last. Her face was white and she looked tired, but she looked around the class with interest and didn't seem bothered by Snape's abruptness. Surprisingly, she took a seat next to Hermione.

"Can I sit here?" she asked.

Hermione looked up, startled. "Oh... um -yes- sure," she said. Lily slid in beside her.

"Sorry about last night," Lily said awkwardly.

"Oh that's alright," Hermione replied quickly. She blushed slightly, as if feeling quilty about telling Ron and Harry about it. "I hope you're feeling better."

"A bit. Thanks," Lily said quietly, smiling, and turned to the front of the class.

"Well, here we are again," Snape said silkily, waving his wand in front of the blackboard where a list of ingredients appeared in neat cursive writing. "I must warn you that this year is going to be the most difficult for you yet. I need not remind you that your NEWT levels will depend on how well you apply yourself this year," he said (reminding them anyway). "And I will accept no _failures_ in this class." His eyes swivelled around to Harry, who glared stonily back. The corner of Snape's mouth twitched. "And I know that not all of you are up to the standard I expect. So this year I will dedicate my time to weeding out those of you who don't belong here... those of you-" again he looked meaningfully at Harry- "who are out of their depth."

Malfoy sniggered. Harry ground his teeth together and tried not to hear him.

"You will find all the ingredients for Ringwort Draught on the board. You have thirty minutes. Work in pairs. And _be extremely careful_ with the Ringwort essence." With that said, Snape sat down at his desk and flipped open a large and dusty book.

The room filled with the sound of scraping chairs. Ron paired up with Harry and went down to the storage cupboard to fetch essence of Ringwort, powdered cockroaches, Bowtruckle leaves and frog brains.

Harry set up a mortar and pestle on his desk and looked through his basic ingredients kit for spine of lionfish.

Hermione had teamed up with Lily, as they had been next to each other. Lily walked over with a tray full of ingredients and began unloading them onto Hermione's desk. Suddenly, amid the babble of voices and the sound of chopping and stirring, there was a heavy clunk. Harry heard Ron say, "huh-hey!"

Harry looked up. His stomach dropped at the sight at the front of the class. Ron was standing looking down at the floor, where his potion ingredients, including the valuable Ringwort essence, were splashed and scattered all over the floor. His empty tray dangled from his hands. Malfoy was striding back to his desk, a wide, self-satisfied grin on his face.

Snape had risen from his chair and was leaning foward, his hands on the desk, glaring at Ron. _"Didn't I tell you to be careful, Weasley?"_ He shouted. Ron went pale.

"Malfoy knocked it out of my hands, sir," he blurted.

"It's hardly Malfoy's fault you're so clumsy, Weasley," Snape snapped. He was clearly enjoying tormenting Ron. "Clean it up. And if it's not done by the end of the lesson you'll stay in at lunchtime and finish it." He took a breath and straightened up. "Who's your partner? Potter, I suppose?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Potter, you can help him. No marks for either of you."

Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish. He looked like he wanted to argue back, but Snape had turned away and the matter was clearly closed. Harry put his mortar down and trudged to the front of the class. Passing Malfoy's desk, he heard Malfoy hiss, "poor little Potty."

Harry's teeth clenched again but he ignored him. He bent down next to Ron and shot him a look of condolence.

Ron had to restrain himself from slamming the broken bottle pieces down on the tray. He fetched a cloth from the storage cupboard and started scrubbing at the floor. Gradually the room filled with noise again and Harry thought it was safe to vent his anger.

"He knows it wasn't you," he told Ron, tweezing a Bowtruckle leaf between his fingers and dropping it onto the rest of the ruined ingredients piling up on the tray. "He's only doing it to make you mad. He wants you to get in more trouble and then punish you for it."

"He's a rotten, greasy, stinking, cowardly old _git,_" Ron hissed under his breath. "I _have_ to get my NEWTs next year. He's trying to make me fail." His mouth sagged into a sulky line. "Him and Malfoy... you'd think they were best friends, wouldn't you? The way they gang up on people."

Harry didn't think Snape thought of Malfoy- or _anyone_- as a friend, but he didn't say anything.

It took them twenty minutes to clean up the mess. Snape wouldn't allow Ron to perform a simple spell to remove the stains on the floor, and they had to scrub at until it was almost invisible. With ten minutes to spare they had no chance of completing the Ringwort Draught, and so returned to their desks to watch Hermione and Lily.

They had boiled their Bowtruckle leaves and were lifting them out of the water with metal tongs. Hermione tipped the cauldron up and poured the steaming water into the bowl with the rest of the mixture. "Now we just need to let it cool," she told Lily, and removed the pair of gloves she was wearing for safety. She looked over at Ron and Harry, and gave them an understanding shrug of apology.

"Looks like Snape still hates you," she said, with the air of someone revealing a great secret.

"Thanks for that Hermione," Ron replied sarcastically. Lily was sitting on the edge of her desk, swinging her feet.

"Why is Professor Snape so mean to Ron?" she asked.

"It's not Ron he hates- well... not as much. He hates everyone, I guess, but Harry's the one he's really got it in for," Hermione told her.

"Him and Malfoy," Ron added.

"Why?"

"Er... it's a long story," Harry said dismissively.

Lily bit her lip and didn't ask any more. Harry felt guilty, but he really didn't feel like discussing Snape right now. He wanted this hellish lesson to end so he could get away from the dungeons and out into the sunlight, into sanity.


	5. Ron's Theory

**Chapter Five**

**Ron's Theory**

The first week of term passed slowly. Harry, Ron and Hermione fell back into their studies, though it wasn't smooth going- they had homework every night from at least three different teachers. Snape piled it on the most- seeming to think that he could make most of them fail under the sheer weight of work they had to do out of class. Hermione fell upon her homework every night with a relish that was almost scary.

They didn't see much of Lily that week- except in class, when she usually paired up with Hermione if teamwork was required. Harry didn't know where she went at lunchtimes and after school, but she was almost always the last one sitting up in the common room before he went to bed. He began to wonder whether she slept at all.

On Tuesday the following week they had Defence Against the Dark Arts late in the day. Lily took a seat next to Hermione and Harry took his usual place beside Ron. Finchley strode in moments later, casually late as was becoming habit for him, and dropped his large leather suitcase on his desk.

"Right, ah... please take out your copies of _Defensive Magical Theory_ and open them to page 630." A unanimous groan rose up from the class.

Seamus Finnigan put his hand up. "Sir, we've already done this book."

"We finished it last year," someone else said.

Finchley looked around the classroom. "I see. Well, I apologise. I know your teaching in this subject has been a little... ah... _irregular_."

Everyone laughed. This was the understatement of the century. Finchley reached into his dusty overcoat and pulled out a wand. His eyes scanned the rows of students and then, abruptly, he pointed his wand directly at Harry.

Harry's stomach clenched instinctively. The irrational thought sped through his mind that Finchley was going to attack him. But Finchley smiled and said, "Harry. I know your experience of defensive spells is far above most of the others here, what with your -er...experiences- with the Dark Arts... I wonder if you'd be so good as to join me in a demonstration of some spell-work for the class."

Harry relaxed a little, and got to his feet, making his way reluctantly down to the front. He didn't like the way Finchley kept making him the centre of attention but he thought Finchley was otherwise harmless...

Finchley smiled in encouragement and instructed Harry to stand opposite him and to prepare himself. Harry took out his wand and faced him, feeling uncertain.

"Now I am going to direct a curse at you, Harry," Finchley said. "I want you to do your best to deflect it. Make sure you aim away from the class."

The students shifted in their seats, looking nervous. Finchley raised his wand hand. "Ready?" he said. Harry gave a quick nod, and stared intently at Finchley's wand. It was quite long and made of some dark, polished wood.

Finchley drew in a breath, and Harry stiffened, his own wand raised and ready.

"_Immobilus!"_ Finchley shouted, and flicked his wand. A green burst of light shot towards Harry.

"Expelliarmus!" Blue light beamed out of his wand and collided with the green, there was a loud bang, and both bounced off towards the windows and evaporated.

"Very good!" Finchley said. "Now, again! Watch him, everybody."

Finchley paused for few beats, and then said "Flipendo!"

"Expelliarmus!" Came Harry's answering shout. Again the spell was deflected easily and bounced loudly off Harry's wand, evaporating harmlessly into the air. Finchley tried a few more practice spells, each one slightly more powerful than the last.

"Locomotor Mortis!"

"Expelliarmus!"

BANG.

"Incarcerous!"

"Expelliarmus!"

BANG.

"Tarantallegra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

BANG.

Finally Finchley stood back, breathing heavily and smiling. Harry shook his hair back from his forehead and stood ready, waiting. "That'll do for now, Harry. Thank you for your help."

Harry lowered his wand, barely out of breath, and started to walk back to his seat, feeling pleased with himself. Then, without warning, Finchley yelled, _"Inacuburitas!"_

The foot that Harry had raised in mid-step was jerked out from under him with tremendous force, and as he fell face-forwards towards the floor, his other leg was yanked up as if by an invisible hand and he was lifted into the air and hovered, upside-down, six inches off the floor with his robe hanging over his head. His glasses slipped off his nose and hit the ground with a crack. Harry flailed around with his wand hand, desperately trying to aim at Finchley and shoot, but his robe was covering his head and he couldn't see.

A few people were laughing, most of the others looked nervous. Finchley was smiling merrily. Harry could hear the blood pounding in his temples, and started feeling dizzy.

"Ah, you see, I caught you off your guard that time," Finchley said amicably, gave a swish of his wand, and Harry felt himself yanked around in mid air- his stomach twisted sickeningly- and then he was righted and deposited back on the floor. He staggered and threw out a hand to steady himself. Finchley had bent down and now picked up Harry's glasses.

"Sorry about that, Harry. _Reparo,"_ he said, and handed Harry back his glasses, which were now fixed. "Hope you don't mind. Just for the purposes of demonstration and all." Harry, who had recovered his balance and his wits, put his glasses back on and glanced mistrustfully through them at Finchley. Finchley laughed. "That's alright, now. You can step down. Class, give Harry a round of applause."

The students clapped, impressed, as Harry walked back to his seat, feeling embarrassed, and not liking having his back turned on Finchley.

"Right, now- I'll get you all to have a go at some basic defensive spells. Find a partner, and practice. And remember, don't turn your back on your opponent."

After the class they filed out into the corridor, glad to be free for the rest of the day. Finchley had been impressed with his students progress- most of them had attended Harry's DA meetings and had become quite proficient at defensive spell-work. Finchley reminded them to hand in their essay (famous vampires in literature and history) on Thursday. Ron had groaned as they left the classroom.

"I haven't even _started_ it," he said. Harry sympathised with him. He had almost finished his, but he suspected it wasn't very good and he would have to get Hermione to proof-read it for him (in other words, correct all his mistakes).

"Ron, honestly," Hermione sighed. She turned to Harry and raised her eyebrows. "I'm going to the library to study. Are you two coming? Ron, you can start your essay."

Ron chewed his lip, debating, and then glanced out the window at the strong afternoon sunlight. "It's so _dark_ in the library," he said glumly. Harry strongly suspected ths might be an excuse. "I'll do it tonight, though. Promise," he added, at Hermione's sour look. She turned to Harry.

"Er... yeah, I've only got a little bit left to do. I'll finish it off later."

She rolled her eyes. Then Lily, who had hovered nearby as they were talking, said, "I might head to the library and finish my History of Magic assignment."

Hermione smiled at her. "Well... you can come with me if you want!" she said, sounding delighted.

"Ok," Lily said, and smiled at Harry and Ron. "See you later," she said, and she and Hermione headed off on their own.

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Hermione's a bad influence on her, I think."

Later that night after dinner in the great hall, Ron and Harry climbed through the portrait hole into the common room for a game of wizard's chess to find Hermione and Lily sitting in chairs by the fire, poring over a large pile of textbooks. There were small scatterings of students elsewhere in the room, standing and laughing or talking quietly.

Hermione looked up as they approached, and seated themselves in a pair of chairs close by. "What are you two doing?" Ron asked, as he set up the chess pieces on a small table in front of him.

"We're doing work, Ron," Hermione said, aloof. "Something you wouldn't have much experience with."

Lily smiled. Ron rolled his eyes, looked at her and said confidentially, "don't encourage her."

Lily and Hermione both laughed. Harry, seated opposite from Ron, leaned forward and moved his knight.

The fire crackled merrily. The only other sounds were the soft murmur of voices and laughter, and the occasional 'plunk' of one of the chess pieces being knocked over.

"I thought you were going to do your vampire essay," Hermione reminded him, glancing up from behind _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6._

"I was," Ron said lazily. "I mean, I am," he amended quickly, at her sharp look. "Don't worry, I've got ages to do it."

"You've got tomorrow," Lily told him. Harry grinned.

"Yeah- ages," Ron said, but looking worried.

Hermione snapped her book shut. "Look Ron, if you're not going to do it on your own, I'll help you. Just please make a start, ok?"

Ron looked up from the chess board where another of his peices had been pulverized- Harry was winning. Then he gave a grunt and said, "ok, then. Sorry, Harry..."

"Yeah, I better finish mine too."

They packed away the board and then ducked upstairs to get their homework.

Returning to the fire, Ron said, "why do we have to write about vampires, anyway? We did that before."

"Not _literary_ vampires," Hermione said. "And anyway -I think they're fascinating."

Ron thought about telling her she thought everything was fascinating, but held back. He opened _A Guide To Demonology_ and began to read.

After five minutes he lifted his head and said loudly, "you know, I think Professor Finchley might be vampire."

Harry restrained the urge to laugh, while Hermione just looked exasperated. Lily gave a kind of choking cough and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Ron glanced and Lily and, hurt by her reaction, went on quickly, "no, I mean- really! He might be. It says here that vampires are really pale and have 'strangely coloured eyes'-" Ron read this from the book as he spoke. "And Finchley's got weird eyes. I've never seen him eat anything. Have you?" He looked at Harry. Harry shook his head.

"But Ron... I don't think they let vampires teach at Hogwarts."

"How do you know?" Ron's eyes glowed with excitement in the firelight.

"Vampires aren't wizards," Hermione said, as if telling him for the millionth time. "Only wizards can teach at Hogwarts."

"Lupin was a werewolf!"

"Yes, but he was also a wizard, and he _wasn't_ a vampire."

Ron looked angrily back to the book. "I bet Finchley is though. He's got this funny sort of smell... like old coffin lining..."

Just when Harry thought he could contain himself no longer, Lily broke the ice and burst out laughing. She still had her hand to her mouth and tried to hold it in for Ron's sake, but it took a while for her to get her breath. Hermione and Harry watched her, amused.

"He's not... a vampire," she said in a voice choked with laughter. "He's my uncle!"

Their mouths dropped open. Even Ron stopped looking insulted and stared at her in disbelief.

"Oh... sorry, I- I didn't mean to... if I offended you..." he stammered.

"Oh, no, that's alright..." Lily said breathlessly. "I'm sure there are... plenty of... nice vampires..."

They all began to laugh, Ron included. Tears sprang from Lily's eyes and she doubled up in her seat, shaking with laughter.

Eventually they calmed down and Lily wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Ron looked down at his book, smiling.

"McGonagall never told us," Hermione said. "When she introduced you. She never said anything."

"I guess we thought it would be easier if no-one knew," Lily reflected. She smiled into the fire. "It would have made it a bit awkward for me in all his classes. People might think I was getting special treatment or something."

Hermione nodded. "So you live with him?"

"Yeah, we've been renting a little flat in London since we moved here, just to go back to during the holidays, you know. I moved from a wizarding school in Ireland."

"Why'd you move?" Harry asked casually, looking at her. Immediately he wished he hadn't said anything. Lily's smile had faded and she was now staring into the fire as if to avoid their gaze.

"Um..."

"Actually, you don't have to tell us, it's ok," Harry said quickly, but Lily gave a small smile and looked down at her hands where they gripped the book in her lap, now closed.

"It's ok..." she began, and then paused as if struggling for words. "Well... something bad happened there. At my old school." Another pause. Harry had gone stiff in his chair, and was wishing he had never opened his mouth. "There was an attack on the school, and a lot of students died. The school was closed down. Aurian -my uncle... brought me here. He thought I would be safe here."

Ron's eyes had grown wide and he was staring at her in mingled fascination, pity and horror. Hermione was breathing shallowly. A loud burst of laughter pealed across the room and she jumped slightly.

A heavy, uneasy silence fell. There was an unspoken question in Ron, Harry, and Hermione's mind ... _safe from what?_ which they couldn't bring themselves to ask. There were pinpoints of light in Lily's eyes which might have been tears, but it was hard to tell. They sat this way for what seemed like an hour (but which was really only about sixty seconds) and then Lily perked up suddenly and said, "Aurian taught Defence Against the Dark Arts at my old school, too. He was training to become an Auror, but he... he never finished it," she ended awkwardly.

Harry knew she was trying to change the subject and he was only too happy to help. "I want to be an Auror too," he said, realizing as it left his mouth how childish it sounded, but Lily smiled at him.

"Yeah, Aurors are _wicked,"_ Ron said in admiration. Lily laughed, and the others smiled.

Silence fell upon the group once more but it was a more companionable one. Ron returned to his homework, raising his head occasionally to ask Hermione questions, and Harry gave Hermione his finished essay to read.

Eventually they grew tired and headed to bed, Lily and Hermione splitting off in the other direction.

As Harry lay in bed that night his mind kept returning to Lily. He wondered what horrible thing had happened at her school that had forced it to close. And what had attacked her?


	6. ABLUMENS

**Chapter Six**

**ABLUMENS**

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood outside the Potions classroom door, waiting for the arrival of their teacher. They always made an effort to be there before him. It didn't pay to be late for one of Snape's classes. As usual, Malfoy and his Slytherin gang were loitering further down the end of the corridor. Unusually, Malfoy had not approached Harry directly this year. He seemed content to shoot him dark glances and get him in trouble with Snape wherever possible, but made no effort to intercept him when they passed in corridoors, or -as now - waited for Snape to arrive. Harry found this a somewhat sinister development, and his relief was plagued by a niggling sense that Malfoy had something bad in store.

"Where's Lily?" Hermione said, glancing around. "She's going to be late... oh, god, Snape will love that! Any excuse to take points off Gryffindor."

Lily sprinted down the stone staircase to the dungeon hallway, her black and red robes billowing out behind her, her books and potions kit clutched under one arm. Potions was the first lesson after lunch, and she had barely had time to run across the Hogwarts grounds when the bell went... and she was going to be late for class with Snape...

Which was who she collided with as she rounded the last corner into the Potions corridor. There were mingled sounds of surprise - a loud "OOF" from Snape, and a little cry of fear from Lily as she crashed headlong into what seemed like a tall tree draped in black robes.

She bounced off Snape's back and hit the wall. Before she knew who it was her arm was snatched in a painful grip and she was yanked to her feet. She craned her neck up and flinched.

Snape leaned down so his long nose was inches from her own. She could smell his greasy hair and something else... like crushed spiders. She bit back a cry of revulsion.

_"WHAT do you think you are doing, Miss Flanagan?"_ Snape half-spat, half-yelled. She wondered if she could wipe her face without offending him and decided against it.

"I was... late for... class, sir," she said in a strained voice.

"You were RUNNING in the CORRIDOORS!" Snape roared. "And being the clumsy, half-witted girl that you are, nearly knocked over your POTIONS MASTER!!"

"I'm very sorry, sir," Lily yelped, not because she was afraid of him, but because he now seemed to be trying to crush all the bones in her wrist.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," he hissed, breathing hard, and let go of her wrist with a yank. "And detention. Now get straight to class."

Lily sucked in a breath and rubbed at her wrist, which had turned red. She was sure there would be a bruise. Snape had turned away and was striding down the corridor towards the Potions classroom. The students had already filed in before Lily had arrived, thankfully missing the ugly scene that had just passed, but she was sure they would have heard Snape shouting. Lily began to trot after him, and then slowed to a walk. Her face took on a look of grim determination. She remembered past Potions lessons during which Snape had found every excuse to fail Harry or make him stay in after class, or give him impossible amounts of homework. Anger boiled up inside her. She knew Harry would be sitting inside right now, dreading the rest of the lesson, and wondering what marvellous new punishment Snape would come up with today. Lily liked Harry. She hated Snape for torturing him. And, almost unconsciously, her hand slipped into her robes and pulled out her wand. She stood in the corridor and slowly raised it until it was pointing directly at Snape's back. If he turned around now he would probably give her detention for a month. She didn't care. He had almost reached the classroom door when Lily flicked her wand and whispered under her breath, _"ablumens."_

A silvery thread of light shot out from the tip of her wand and snaked towards Snape. It hit him directly in the small of his back. Snape stopped dead in his tracks. Lily's breath caught in her throat. She saw Snape's head flick from one side to another, as if he was trying to clear it, or perhaps seeing if the traffic was clear before he crossed a busy road. Then, abruptly he turned around and stared at Lily.

Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. The spell hadn't worked. Snape was still the same and the spell hadn't worked... she was going to be put on detention... she might even be expelled... _the spell hadn't worked._

"Are you in my class?" Snape asked suddenly. His voice was different. There was no anger, no meanness in it. Lily thought it might be a trick.

"Yes," she answered blankly, her wand hanging down by her side.

Then Snape did something utterly out of character- he smiled. There was no trace of malice or spite in that smile. His teeth glinted yellowly in the flickering torchlight and Lily supposed he didn't care what they looked like- he didn't show them very much.

"Well come along then," he said cheerily, reaching the door and holding it open for her. "Haven't got all day, dear."

Lily's stomach did a somersault. She didn't know whether to laugh or feel sick. The word was so alien, coming from Snape... and yet she had done it! The spell had worked!

She walked past him slowly, cautiously, into the classroom. Only now was she beginning to comprehend what she had done. She had cast a spell on a _teacher._ Was that punishable by expulsion? Harry, Ron and Hermione turned to look at her as she entered and edged her way into a seat next to Hermione. She was very pale. She realized she felt slightly dizzy. The world seemed to be rolling in waves of grey.

"Are you alright?" Hermione whispered, thinking that Snape had frightened the living daylights out of her. Harry was leaning over his desk, looking worried.

Then Snape entered, swung the door closed and walked jauntily up to the front of the room. "Right, where were we then?" he said, looking around the classroom as if he had never seen it before.

Harry stared at him. Either Snape had just won the lottery, or something was seriously wrong. Snape smiled out over the rows of heads. "Anyone?"

"Uh... we did the Occulus Serum last lesson, sir," Draco Malfoy said, sounding utterly confused. Harry couldn't help but feel a moment of satisfaction at the sound of his voice.

"Right! Of course! Occulus Serum! Great stuff, that isn't it?" By this point most of the students had their mouths open halfway to their desks. Malfoy looked as if he had become unplugged from reality. But Snape went on. "Did you know that Occulus Serum has the power to... the power to..." he shook his head once, hard, as if trying to get a fly off his forehead, blinked, and smiled at them again. "Well I'm sure whatever it does it's really marvellous. Now, this lesson," he stepped around his desk and began to shuffle through the stack of books there. The classroom had filled with murmured whispers. A few people were giggling uncontrollably. Harry simply sat back in his seat, stunned, unable to take his eyes off Snape. "This lesson we'll be testing out our Occulus Serum and taking note of its effects." He looked up and grinned. Harry winced at the sight. There were a few more, louder giggles. None of the Slytherins were laughing.

"Everyone come up the front and collect your vials," Snape said amicably. "Then just... take a swig from it and see what happens!"

More bursts of laughter. Hermione's hand shot up and trembled in the air. Her eyes were wide and round. "But... Professor... er- sir, are you sure that's... shouldn't you test our potions first? To see if they're safe?"

"Nonsense!" Snape said loudly, and his cheek twitched. "I have complete faith in your skills. Now go on, drink up everybody! I want three inches of parchment on my desk by the end of the lesson..."

Ron turned to Harry, looked dumbfounded. "Three inches?" he whispered. "Has Snape gone mad?"

The thought had occurred to Harry too, but only briefly. He thought it much more likely that someone had put some sort of hex on Snape. The consequences for whoever did it would be very serious.

No-one had bothered to obey Snape's orders. They were now entirely convinced he had either lost his mind, or been possessed (perhaps by the spirit of Gilderoy Lockhart) or been jinxed. Many of the students were now roaring with laughter, talking loudly and excitedly to one another or, as in the case of the Slytherins, sitting silently in their seats and watching Snape as if he was a new and interesting species of life.

Snape didn't seem to care, or even notice, that no-one was obeying orders. After the first few failed attempts, he simply sat down behind his desk, put his feet up on it, and began humming. Every now and then his face would twitch, and he would shake his head violently, and then resume humming.

All the spit had dried out of Harry's mouth. He wanted to laugh, but he couldn't help but wonder what Snape would be like when (or if) he ever snapped out of this. He knew one thing: there would be hell to pay.

Two seats across from him, Lily was still very pale and occasionally swayed in her seat, but she was smiling at Snape with amusement and, Harry noted, the tiniest trace of satisfaction.

_Please don't let it have been her,_ Harry thought desperately. The room was now a cacophony of voices and hysterical shrieks of laughter. The laughter became a roar when Snape leaned back too far on his chair and tipped himself off it onto the floor, then got up smiling and apologizing profusely.

Harry noticed that Snape's smile now seemed stretched; it was as though he was trying with all his might to prevent it but someone had put fishhooks in the corners of his mouth and was pulling on them. His head shaking became more frequent as the lesson wore on and once, after a particularly violent one, he looked around and jumped to his feet, glaring at the class, opened his mouth as if to shout, and then shook his head and sat back down, examining his fingernails.

This was enough to convince Harry that whatever influence Snape was under was not permanent, and was wearing off quickly. With five minutes to go until the end of the lesson he nudged Ron and Hermione and said, "I think we'd better get out of here."

"We can't just _leave,"_ Hermione said weakly.

"It's wearing off," Harry hissed. "And I personally don't want to hang around until it does, and the _real_ Snape comes back, do you?"

The look on their faces was all the answer he needed. Lily too stood up, swayed, coughed, and looked at him.

"Let's go," Harry muttered, and they filed quietly out the door. No-one, least of all Snape, payed them any attention. People were now sitting on their desks, pointing at Snape and laughing. The Slytherins were gathered in a huddle, talking quietly. Snape was shaking his head now every few seconds, and slapping it with the palm of his hand. His facial twitch had become quite pronounced.

They stepped out into the corridor and began hurrying along it. Hermione glanced behind her every few steps as if expecting to see Snape come charging after them. They made it out into the entrance hall and outside before the bell rang. Harry wondered nervously if Snape had come round yet, and if he had noticed their absence. They walked together down the long, sloping decline towards the lake's edge.

"That was completely _horrible,"_ Hermione said, sounding traumatized. "I never _ever_ want to see Snape like that again."

"It was pretty funny though," Ron said, smiling, although Harry recalled how he had sat stock still in his seat for most of the lesson, staring at Snape with an expression of apprehension and disgust.

"I wouldn't like to be the person who did it," Harry said quietly. "Snape will go berserk when he finds out."

Lily suddenly stopped walking. The others walked on for a few steps and then, realzing she wasn't among them, turned back. Lily's face was completely drained of colour.

"I did it," she said flatly, and Harry's heart sank. He wanted to shake her.

_"Why?"_ he asked desperately.

Lily smiled apologetically at him. "I was sick of him being mean to everybody. Especially you, Harry."

"You did it because of _me?"_

Lily shrugged, and looked at the ground. She looked completely ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry, I _know_ it was stupid, I know I'll get in trouble..."

"You cursed a _teacher!"_ Hermione said breathlessly. "You could be expelled!"

"It didn't hurt anyone."

"That doesn't matter, you _can't_ use magic on teachers, you just can't, no matter what!"

Hermione stopped, feeling sorry for Lily. "Did he see you do it?"

Lily shook her head, and continued staring at the ground. Harry watched her closely, but she said no more.

Hermione sighed. "Well, you might be alright then. He might never find out who it was. And it was very clever. Cheering charm, was it? We did those in third year. I must've read _Achievements In Charming_ about a hundred times, it was invaluable for those OWL exams..."


	7. Crime and Punishment

**Chapter Seven**

**Crime and Punishment**

At dinner that night in the Great Hall, McGonagall marched up to the table and stopped behind Hermione. Lily, who was sitting opposite, put down her fork and glanced at Harry. _He found out_, her eyes said.

"Miss Flanagan, would you please come with me," McGonagall said in a voice that was straining to be polite. Harry looked at Lily, his appetite suddenly gone, and thought of wishing her good luck. He said nothing. Lily got up from her seat and followed McGonagall down the long table and out of sight. Harry turned back to his plate but found he couldn't eat anymore.

Lily followed McGonagall upstairs and towards her office. McGonagall walked briskly, and Lily had to jog to keep up. McGonagall didn't slow down even when Lily tripped and stumbled on a stair, and then had to run after her to catch up. Eventually they came to Professor McGonagall's office and she stood by the door and pointed Lily inside. Her lips were drawn so thinly together they had gone white. Lily's heart fell at the disappointment on her face- it was this, more than anything, that made her deeply regret what she had done. She stepped into the room and noticed immediately that Snape was there too, standing by McGonagall's desk with his hands behind his back, looking furious and pale. One strand of hair had come loose from the rest and hung down over one eye, but he had made no attempt to remove it.

Lily felt goose-bumps break out over her body, as if Snape was emitting an icy coldness into the air around him.

She heard the door close and McGongall stepped around her on the desk's other side and stood behind it. She stared at Lily over her glasses.

"I presume you know why you are here?" she said thinly.

Lily glanced at Snape's shoes and nodded. She couldn't bring herself to look at his face. He was standing as still as a statue and hadn't moved since she came in.

"Yes Professor McGongall."

There was an accusing silence. Lily continued to stare at Snape's shoes.

"Do you know how serious a crime this is?" McGonagall said. Her voice was stretched and breathy, as if she wanted to shout.

"Yes, miss." She didn't though, not really.

There was another heavy pause. "I have every right to have you expelled, Miss Flanagan. Use of spells against teachers is illegal at Hogwarts, not to mention dangerous to the lives of the teachers involved!" Her voice had risen as she spoke, and now she was breathing heavily. She gathered her robes about her and sat down, as if to collect herself.

"I'm so sorry, Professor Snape," Lily said quietly, and she meant it, but not for his feelings. She couldn't stand the disappointment she heard in McGongall's voice. "I never meant you any harm, I swear." Snape still hadn't moved or said a word. "It was... a really stupid thing to do."

"It was stupid, reckless, and completely and utterly unacceptable," McGonagall said. "Needless to say, Professor Finchley will be furious. I don't know what sort of rules you had at your old school but _we do not suffer that sort of behaviour here,_ am I completely understood?"

"Yes miss."

McGongall had leaned forward slightly and she now sat straight-backed in her chair.

"Very well. As you are new here and are not accquainted with our rules, and have suffered considerable trauma upending your lives and moving here to Hogwarts-" McGongall paused, collected herself, and continued, "-I see no reason why we should expel you. You have been an exceptional student in all other regards. We will not hang your future on this one mistake. But let me warn you... anything else like this and the consequences will be very dire."

"Yes, miss. Thank you."

"Very well. I shall leave it to Professor Snape to decide your punishment."

Silence stretched out again, and then Snape leaned down close to Lily. Again, she could smell that unpleasant blend of hair grease and dead spiders. Snape was smiling now, too- but this time it was a snarl.

"I propose a month of detention, after school and during lunchtimes, with me in the dungeons."

Lily shivered, partly because of the icy air seeming to ooze from Snape's pores, but mostly at the thought of detention with him down there in the dark dungeon classroom.

McGongall's lips twitched. "A month, Severus? Do you really think that's practical? It will interfere with her studies..."

Snape straightened up, mercifully giving Lily back the use of her lungs. "It is fitting for crime so severe as this. Weren't you just considering the possibility of having her expelled? Surely that-" he smiled nastily down at Lily, "- would 'interfere with her studies' rather a lot more."

McGonagall paused, and then nodded, again looking down her nose through her glasses at Lily. "As you wish, then. I suggest you make use of your free time very carefully, Miss Flanagan, in case you fall behind."

Lily looked back from McGonagall to Snape.

"You may go," Snape said silkily. "Detention starts tomorrow. _Do not be late."_

Lily's detention did indeed start the next day, and it was as horrible as she had expected it to be. She was ordered to clean up the classroom, which was a mess after a first-year Potions class had just finished. The desks were splattered with frog brains, chopped pieces of Abyssinian shrivelfig, the discarded heads of small black slugs, and the occasional stewed fly body, which were stuck to the tables in their own sticky glue and had to be scraped off. Once this was done Lily was ordered to clear out the entire storage cupboard and re-label all the jars. Eventually she was freed only to go to Divinations and Arithmancy, and then back to Snape's classroom to repeat the process.

At the end of her second shift of detention, Lily was given more work - six lengths of parchment discussing the properties of belladonna essence and its uses.

"On my desk tommorrow," Snape added, his black eyes glinting. Lily was too tired to protest at this unfairness, knowing it was impossible for her to write six rolls of parchment by tomorrow, but muttering her acknowledgement and leaving the classroom smelling of stewed flies.

Hermione, Harry and Ron entered the common room that night to notice Lily sitting by herself at a table in the corner, her face buried in a pile of books. They wandered over apprehensively, and Hermione said, "Is that all for Snape?" Her hand gestured at the half-finished rolls of parchment strewn haphazardly across the desk.

Lily nodded, and went back to her reading.

"Um..." Ron said, and glanced at Hermione. "Is there anything... we can do? You know, to help?"

Hermione slid into a chair beside Lily, looking at her eagerly. Lily glanced at them uncertainly.

"You don't have to, I'm sure you have better things to do," she said quietly.

"No we don't," said Hermione. "Do we?"

Ron and Harry took her cue and shook their heads. Ron picked up the book nearest to him. He read a bit of it and grimaced. "Er...no, sure we don't."

"You... really want to help?"

"Of course we do!" Hermione said scoldingly. "What's the assignment?" She gave Harry and Ron a warning look.

"Essence of belladonna and its uses. Six scrolls of parchment."

"Six!" Hermione gasped. "Snape can't expect you to do that!"

"He doesn't expect her to," Harry said sourly.

"He hates me," Lily said.

"Yeah, well... you embarrassed him," Harry murmured, flicking through _Poisonous Plants of Europe and Asia_. "Snape has a thing about... losing face in front of people." He concentrated on the book, hoping the others weren't staring at him. He had never told Ron and Hermione what he saw in the Pensieve that day in Snape's classroom- how his father had humiliated Snape in front of the other students. He realized it was the same spell Finchley had used on him last week.

They buried themselves in Lily's homework. Between the four of them they actually made quick work of it- Harry and Ron scribbled down any useful notes they could find and Hermione dictated it to Lily, who copied it onto the parchment.

At one point Harry looked up asked, "what did Professor Finchley say when he found out?"

"He was really angry with me," she replied softly, and they said no more on the subject.

It was about two o'clock in the morning by the time they had finished. Lily sat back, rubbing her hand; Ron yawned widely and massaged his back; Hermione flopped back in her seat and Harry dropped the quill he had been writing with for the last three or four hours.

"Thanks guys," Lily said croakily, and Harry didn't know whether she was just tired or trying not cry. "If you hadn't helped me... I would have got no marks."

"Yeah well, at least you've got something to hand in to Snape tomorrow," Harry said, smiling tiredly.

Lily's face fell. "Oh yeah... but do you think he'll believe I wrote it all myself?"

"You did," Hermione said. "It's all in your own writing. Snape can't _prove_ we helped you."

"Well... thanks again..." Lily said, and favoured them all with a warm smile.

"Forget it," Harry said, grinning.

"Yeah- it wuf nuffing," Ron said through another yawn.


	8. ILVENTO

**Chapter Eight**

**ILVENTO**

The four of them ate breakfast in the Great Hall together the next morning. The post owls arrived and, as usual, Hedwig was absent. A brown school owl dropped a rolled up paper in front of Hermione, clipping her bowl of breakfast and sending droplets of milk flying onto the table and her robes. She shooed it away and picked up the paper, unfurling it over her bowl. It was _The Daily Prophet,_ Harry saw with no surprise.

Ron was excitedly unwrapping a parcel of his own. There was a note attached to the front of it. He read it out. _"Dear Ron, here's a prototype from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Thought it might come in handy for all that homework you're going to have this year. Hope you like it (you owe us 3 Galleons). Love, George and Fred."_ Ron snorted. "Three galleons! What are they on about?" he lifted up the last bit of paper and stared at the object lying among the folds of brown paper. It was a fairly ordinary-looking quill pen, with a large brown feather sticking out the top. Ron picked it up glumly. "A pen. They sent me a pen." He looked at Harry, who smiled.

"Try writing something ith it," he prompted.

Ron lowered the pen to the parchment wrapping paper and began to write... but as soon as it touched the page it began writing rapidly, apparently of its own accord. Ron yelped and let go- it continued writing. Harry leaned over the table to see.

_This is the worst present Fred and George have ever given me... Wow! A self-writing pen! Brilliant! Uh.. what?_

"It's writing down my _thoughts!"_ Ron said in disbelief. The pen continued to scribble rapidly.

_... Wow, this is really neat. I'm hungry._

His hand went to his stomach and rubbed it guiltily. Harry grinned. "Try thinking of something else, Ron!"

Ron squinted and looked up at the ceiling. The pen wiggled furiously, hopped down to a new line, and wrote:

_Snape is a greasy git._

Harry and Ron both laughed. Hermione jumped as if startled, then returned to the newspaper she was reading. Lily was watching the thought-writing pen with complete fascination.

"Can I have a go?" Harry asked, and Ron lifted the pen up- it was cut-off in mid sentence about how Ron had an itch on the back of his neck- and handed it to Harry. He drew the parchment across the table and placed the pen on it, thinking hard.

_Malfoy has slugs for brains and his mother's a Blast-Ended Skrewt._

They both erupted into fits of laughter that drew glances from the Ravenclaw table, which was closest to theirs. Harry tried a few more experiments, mostly involving Malfoy, his mother, and his father. Each one prompted a fresh fit of laughter from Ron. Eventually he snatched the pen up- it was running out of room and would soon skip off the edge of the parchment onto the table- and stuffed it into his pocket. "Nice one, Fred and George," he said admiringly, and quickly cleared the insult-covered parchment off the table and scrunched it up.

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly. Her voice was serious.

"What?"

"There's been some news... uh, you should read this..." she began to pass Harry the _Daily Prophet_, but at that moment Harry caught sight of a blond-headed figure weaving his way around the tables towards him. There were two larger boys on either side. Harry's back stiffened.

"It's Malfoy," he said flatly.

"Harry," Hermione said warningly, but Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had already reached the Gryffindor table and were striding down its length towards where Harry was sitting. Harry felt for his wand under the table, and, feeling it tucked safely into his pocket, he rested his hand on it as Draco approached.

He stopped right in front of Harry, behind Ron, who jumped to his feet and stepped aside. Harry also stood up slowly, as did Hermione. Malfoy's face was angrier than Harry had ever seen it. His mouth was drawn into a tight little snarl, revealing his teeth, and making him look like an angry rat. His face was flushed and stood out against his pale hair. His eyes flashed with bright hatred at Harry.

"Seen the paper today _Potter?"_ he spat, and Harry noticed that he was holding his wand in his hand, down by his side. Harry drew his own wand out slowly.

"No," he said coldly, still having no idea what this was about.

"No," Malfoy sneered. "That's right. I forgot- you probably can't read." Crabbe and Goyle snickered at this, but Malfoy flung out his wand hand as if to shut them up. "Well guess what. Thanks to you, you _filth,_ my father's in Azkaban." He spoke in a soft hiss, and poison dripped from his words. Harry shot a glance at Hermione, who was looking at him apologetically. Apparently that was what she had wanted to show him. Harry looked Malfoy in the eyes.

"I'd say he's right where he belongs, then," he said quietly.

Draco's wand hand twitched. He somehow restrained himself from raising it to Harry's face and unleashing every spell he knew on him, but it was only by a very thin margin that he succeeded. His nostrils flared alarmingly as he breathed heavily through them.

"I'm going to finish what my father started," he hissed. "I'm going to finish you off, Potter."

"Gosh, death threats... how original," Hermione snapped. She glared back at Malfoy, but he didn't even turn his head in her direction.

"I mean it," he said, talking very quietly, staring directly at Harry, his words laced with malice. "You better watch your back. I'm going to kill you." His eyes burned with hate, and in that moment Harry believed him.

Beside him, he heard Lily draw in a sharp breath.

In the next moment, several things happened seemingly all at once.

A shout rang out clear and loud, drowning out every other voice in the hall:

**"ILVENTO!"**

Then, a split second later, Draco gave a loud 'OOF' as if he has just been punched in the stomach, was lifted high into the air with barely a cry of surprise, and thrown across the room by an invisible force. He landed on his own House table. He hit the hard wooden surface with a sickening thump. Plates smashed and cracked under his back, and then, still propelled by the force of the spell, he rolled head-first over the other side of the table and landed out of sight on the floor at the very far end of the Hall.

The room erupted with noise. Among the screams, shouts, and sound of countless chairs scraping across the floor, he realized he could hear Malfoy moaning pitifully somewhere below the Slytherin table.

Harry's skin had gone cold and his guts had curled into a tight, painful ball. Mouth hanging open, he looked at Lily. She wasn't there anymore.

Then he looked down, confused, and saw her lying on the floor, her wand still clutched tightly in her hand.

Then he was shoved out of the way by Professor Finchley, who knelt down next to her and felt her pulse. "Stand back, give her some room!" He shouted at the Gryffindors who had gathered around to see. McGonagall and Dumbledore appeared at the edge of the crowd, and the students parted to let them through. Harry looked up and saw that on the other side of the Hall, Snape was crouching down below the table with Madam Pomfrey, Professor Flitwick, and several other teachers crowded around Malfoy.

Finchley had stood up with Lily draped in his arms. Her wand swung from her limp hand and then fell onto the floor. Harry picked it up.

"Give me that, Harry," Finchley said in a thick voice. Harry did. Finchley's face was constricted in anger and worry.

He left the Hall carrying Lily, followed closely by McGonagall and Dumbledore. Dumbledore paused breifly at the doorway to tell them to "continue their breakfast," and everyone in the Hall heard him because they had fallen silent. Snape stood up and made a motion with his wand, and a gurney appeared out of thin air, hovering next to the table. Two Slytherin prefects helped Snape lift Malfoy onto it. He had stopped moaning and was apparently out cold. Snape left the hall with Madam Pomfrey and the two prefects carrying Malfoy.

Crabbe and Goyle were still standing near the Gryffindor table, looking dumbstruck. They glanced at one another and then started pushing their way through the crowd, following Snape.

People started talking in hushed voices. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, feeling weak and sick. He knew Lily had really gone too far this ime. She would almost surely be expelled. The look on Ron and Hermione's faces told him they were thinking exactly the same thing.

"I'm sorry, Aurian, but I am afraid this time..." Dumbledore sighed, and then continued, "she cannot stay at Hogwarts."

Aurian Finchley, Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore stood in Dumbledore's office. The old wizard was peering at Finchley sadly from behind his half-moon glasses.

"Albus, I.... I don't know what to say," Aurian said, his hoarse voice choked with anger and frustration. "Lily swore to me... she swore she would never..."

"I'm afraid she has broken that oath on two occasions," Dumbledore said grimly. "Both times she placed another person's life in very serious danger."

"But Snape wasn't hurt!" Finchley said loudly, and pacing across the room. His hands were clenched on Lily's wand, as if he was thinking of snapping it in half. "Lily wouldn't have..."

"She wouldn't have? No, but she did," Dumbledore interrupted him. "She did, Aurian, twice- and this time somebody _has_ been hurt... although how seriously, I don't know. I'm still waiting for news from Madam Pomfrey." He glanced off to the side, sounding distracted.

"Please- Albus, you can't send Lily away. Not when You Know Who's after her. You know as well as I do that if Vol... if _he_ finds her, we could all be in danger! He could pick us off one by one!" Aurian was breathing hard and there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. The metal buckle on his coat clinked as he stepped towards Dumbledore's desk. McGongall watched on silently, one hand at her temple, as if she had a headache.

"I am well aware of your situation," Dumbledore said quietly. "But please remember, the lives of my students and their teachers must be my full priority as long as I am Headmaster of this school."

He stared at Aurian, who stared back, desperately trying to think of something he could say that would change Dumbledore's mind.

"Dumbledore," he said breathlessly, "it _is_ the lives of your students and teachers I'm thinking of. It's the lives of you, Harry and everyone else You Know Who's ever had it in his mind to harm. He could do it," Aurian said coldly. "He could find a way to use her powers. It would be like giving his powers to Harry, only in reverse."

Dumbledore remained silent. He appeared to be thinking very hard.

"We have nowehere else to go," Aurian finished in a croak.

"I know that. That is why I granted you refuge here in the first place," Dumbledore said stonily. Another long silence fell. Then suddenly the door opened and Snape strode in, looking pale and strained.

"How is Draco's progress, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, straightening in his chair.

Snape glanced at McGonagall and Finchley. "He will live," he said dully. "He has a broken ankle and numerous bruises...and his shoulder was dislocated-" Finchley winced at this, "- but Madam Pomfrey assures me he will be fit again within a week... however, his progress will be painful." Snape added this last with a look at Finchley, who lowered his eyes.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. Snape gave him a curt nod and left the room. Once more silence descended. With nothing left to say, Aurian sat heavily in a chair next to a bookshelf.

A few minutes passed slowly and in silence. Aurian raised his head once or twice to say something, but then thought better of it. Eventually Dumbledore lifted his nose from his laced fingers and said, "I have decided. Bring her inside." Aurian stared at him mournfully, already guessing at Dumbledore's decision but waiting as if expecting Dumbledore to tell him. But he remained silent.

Aurian got up and left the room, appearing seconds later with a very pale and quiet Lily, who swayed dangerously when Aurian let go of her shoulder.

"I am aware that you are not feeling well, Lily, and I will not draw this out any longer than necessary." He paused, looking implacably at Finchley.

"You will remain at Hogwarts under the care of Aurian Finchley. You are forbidden to use spells at any time except when required to do so in class, and you _will not speak_ to Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley or Hermione Granger by any means until you have redeemed yourself in the eyes of the teachers and students here."

Lily's face twisted with grief and she looked down at the floor.

"Furthermore, when not serving detention with Professor Snape, you are confined to Gryffindor Tower and the common room at all times out of classes or at mealtimes. If you wish to use the library you must consult Professor McGonagall or myself first- and request a note of permisson. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Lily said in a voice that was almost to soft to hear.

Aurian stood stiffly by her side, his hand clenched on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered to Lily, and then he looked down at his desk. "Very well. You are free to go. I suggest you get yourself looked at by Madam Pomfrey and then head straight to your dormitory."

Lily turned and left, supported on one side by Finchley, who gave Dumbledore one last look of gratitude before leaving.


	9. Drawings and Divinations

**Chapter Nine**

**Drawings and Divinations**

If they had seen little of Lily during her previous detentions, they saw even less of her now. She was moved out of Hermione's dormitory room and into another one. Whenever they saw her she was either in class (sitting as far away from the three of them as the room would allow), or in the common room studying behind a huge pile of books. She looked up at them once or twice on those occasions but her eyes would fill with tears and she had to look away.

One Wednesday, Harry, Hermione and Ron were walking down towards the lake to waste the rest of the afternoon. The sun shone brightly overhead and beat down on their backs as they walked. Small groups of students were scattered across the grounds- sitting, lying back looking up at the sky or standing around talking. Voices and laughter drifted past them on the soft afternoon breeze.

"Let's go find some shade," Hermione suggested, and they veered off towards the trees. Harry crunched a leaf idly under his foot as he walked.

"Wonder how Lily is," he said glumly.

"Not good, by the look of all that homework she's got. _And_ she's still doing detentions with Snape." Ron said, and looked at them ruefully. "Not much of a life, is it?"

"I still think it's _unbelievable _she wasn't expelled," Hermione said. "After what she did to Snape..."

"It's my fault," Harry said through clenched teeth. They both looked at him, startled.

"What?" Hermione gasped.

"She did it because Malfoy threatened to kill me. And I think he was serious."

"Come on," Ron said in disbelief. "Malfoy's a loser, but he wouldn't _kill_ anybody."

"Yeah? How would you feel if I sent your dad to Azkaban?"

Ron looked uncertainly at Hermione. "Well..." he started, and then realized Harry's point. "Ok, I'd be pretty bloody angry, but I wouldn't _kill_ anyone."

Hermione glanced at Ron unhappily. "Well, think about it... Malfoy's put Harry in danger plenty of times... and he _does _hate you, Harry... it wouldn't be that far a stretch."

Harry, Hermione and Ron had walked into the shade of the trees bordering the school grounds, and through the thick trunks he could see the lake. Sunlight danced across its surface, reflecting painfully back between two trees and into his eyes. He squinted, and glanced casually down at the lakeside near to the forest's edge... and frowned. There was a girl standing next to a large, flat rock down by the water's edge, back turned to them, her wavy blonde hair glowing golden in the sunlight...

"Hey... isn't that Lily?" he said loudly, and then the sun flared off the water and into his eyes for a moment, making him squinch his eyes shut.

Ron and Hermione both stopped, and turned around to look in the direction he was facing. "Where?" Hermione asked.

"There, down by the..." Harry stopped. He had rubbed his eyes to stop them watering. When he looked back down at the rock by water's edge, there was no girl next to it.

"Um...there's no-one there," Ron said. Harry hurried past them and stepped out of the thin forest onto the sandy bank where the rock sat. He could see all the way up to the castle above the forest from here, but the place had been invisible from the other side of the trees.

Then he looked closer at the rock. There was an open book sitting on its smooth surface, the pages laid out flat in the baking heat of the sun. A pencil was balanced on the edge of the rock. As he watched, it rolled and tipped over the edge onto the ground. As if someone had dropped it there moments before.

Again he glanced around the little shelf of land, which was bordered on three sides by trees and on the other by the lake. The girl wouldn't have had time to get under cover. He had only looked away for a second.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, stepping up beside him and staring at the book. Harry reached down and picked it up slowly. It was a book of drawings. On one page was a sketch of Aurian Finchley, from the shoulders up. Harry thought it was superb, even down to the individual strands of hair, which faded out of sight towards the bottom of the page. On the opposite side was a drawing of himself. Hermione gasped audibly when she saw it. Harry looked down at himself, feeling strange. It was like looking into a mirror, except the Harry on this page was smiling.

"Wow, those're _brilliant!"_ Ron exclaimed, taking hold of one side of the book and flipping through it. "Are there any of me in there?"

Hermione ignored him and glanced at Harry curiously. "This is definitely Lily's book," she said, and he nodded. Ron turned to the first page and it was blank, but on the inside front cover there was a signature.

"Lily Flanagan," he read.

Harry looked at them both. "She was here," he said forcefully. "I saw her."

"Ok, we believe you Harry," Hermione said placatingly. "But where did she go?"

"Anyway, she's supposed to be restricted to the common room," Ron said. "There'll be hell to pay if anyone finds out she's been wandering around."

Hermione looked from one to the other, thinking. Then, unable to come up with a theory, she said, "We better go back. We should bring that too," she added, pointing at the book.

Friday of that week they had Divinations. Lily had been a favourite of Trelawney's ever since their first Divinations lesson. She usually made every effort to involve Lily in class demonstrations and spent most of the class crowding next to her, offering encouragements and praise. Lavender and Parvati now competed with Lily (though the competition was one-sided, certainly Lily didn't impressed by all the attention she was getting) for Trelawney's appraisal.

On Friday afternoon they crowded into the Divinations classroom and took up spots in whatever chairs were free. Lily was sitting by herself in a chair close to the window. She looked miserable.

Their task that day was to scry into crystals, and to try and discern any omens that they saw. Trelawney fluttered among the students like an overlarge butterfly, her countless jewels clinking together as she moved. Inevitably she would complete a tour of the classroom and then come back to Lily, who had partnered with a short-haired Hufflepuff girl. She leaned over and spoke to Lily. Over the noise of the other students, Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, as he was sitting with Ron on the other side of the room.

"Ok, what do you see?" He asked Ron distractedly.

Ron placed his fingers on his temples and gazed deeply and seriously into the crystal. "I see... the Chudley Cannons winning the Quidditch World Cup..."

Harry was too distracted to laugh, but he smiled at Ron. "I can't write that down."

"Why not?" Ron said, offended. "It's not that impossible."

Harry glanced over at Lily and Professor Trelawney again, who was now kneeling down beside their table, gazing into the crystal. Suddenly Trelawney began to speak, but it was in a voice much deeper and louder than her own, which Harry could here all the way across the room. At the sound of it the other students fell silent.

**_"I see her,"_** Trelawney boomed, still looking into the crystal ball. Lily had flinched back in her chair. _**"She's at Hogwarts. The one I seek. The one whose powers I must posess. She's at Hogwarts. She's at Hogwarrrrrrtssssssssss..."** _this last word became drawn out and stretched, distorting the booming voice that was coming from Professor Trelawney and yet could not possibly be made by her... the sound of it filled Harry's head and he scrunched his eyes shut just as a lightning-bolt of pain shot through his forehead.

"NO!" Lily screamed, and Harry opened his eyes in time to see her leap up from her chair and run across the room, swing herself down through the trapdoor and out of sight. Professor Trelawney was still kneeling on the floor, and had fallen silent. Her head tilted forward slowly onto her chest and then suddenly jerked up. She looked around, blinking.

"Where did Miss Flanagan go?" she asked breathily, but everyone was still too shocked to answer.


	10. Missing

**Chapter Ten**

**Missing**

They left Divinations feeling confused and shaken. Harry didn't mention his scar hurting to the others- he thought it would only further complicate the situation.

Lily was not in Potions that day. Nor was she at the Gyffindor table when the sky darkened and they were called down for dinner. The three of them returned to the common room that night and were not surprised to find her absent there, as well.

"I'm really worried about what happened today," Hermione said in a hushed voice, seating herself on the arm of a squashy chair. "It's like what happened to you, Harry, when Trelawney had that... prediction," she finished awkwardly, not knowing what to call it. Harry and Ron sat themselves near her.

"Do you think it was another one of those? A real prediction?" Ron asked.

"Sounded like it," Harry said darkly.

"Well, it didn't make very much sense. 'The girl whose powers I must possess. She's at Hogwarts.'" Hermione raised her eyebrows at them. "What's all that supposed to mean? Well... obviously, it's something to do with Lily, but..."

Harry felt a black fear creep into his heart. "I think maybe it's got something to do with what happened at Lily's old school," he said cautiously. "Like... whatever... _whoever_... attacked her there is looking for her again. And they know where she is."

Hermione and Ron stared at him, horrified.

"Did you see the look on her face when she heard what Trelawney said?" Harry added, as if he needed to convince them further.

Ron swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed. "So what's to stop this... whoever it is... attacking her at Hogwarts?"

Harry looked at Ron, his eyes full of foreboding, and said honestly, "I don't know."

Morning came around and there was still no sign of Lily. After timidly questioning the girls in her new dorm room, Hermione discovered that she hadn't returned to her room last night- her bed had not been slept in. She met Ron and Harry in the Great Hall with a worried look on her face.

"Do you think we should tell someone?" Hermione said over the table.

Harry was looking up towards the front of the Hall, and he said, "I don't think we need to. Look," and Hermione swivelled around in her chair. McGongall and Finchley were hurrying down the length of the Gryffindor table, McGonagall leaning over every so often to speak to the students sitting along its length. Finchley looked on grimly. Eventually the two teachers stopped beside Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Have any of you three seen Lily Flanagan?" McGonagall asked in a breathless, fretful voice.

The three of them shook their heads. Finchley grew visibly paler and put a hand on McGonagall's shoulder.

"We need to search the school," he said hoarsely, and Harry heard him straining to keep calm. He was breathing hard, as if he had just run up a long flight of steps.

McGonagall turned to him and paused, indecisive. "We must not raise a panic," she said, just as quietly, although the three of them still heard her perfectly.

"But if she's done what I think she's done..." Finchley said in a rush, and McGonagall snapped at him. "Not here." She glanced briefly at Harry, Ron and Hermione, and then steered Aurian away from the Gryffindor table and out into the entrance hall.

The three of them looked at each other, shaken.

_"What_ is going on?" Ron said helplessly.

"Let's go and find out," said Hermione stonily. "I'm tired of all this secrecy."

They checked McGonagall's office but it was empty. Deciding the two teachers must have gone to Dumbledore, they made their way up to the corridor leading onto the stairway to his office.

The way was shut.

"Password?" Hermione said desperately. "Um... any ideas, anyone?"

"Chocolate frog!" Harry shouted randomly at the gargoyle. "Peppermint swirl! Bertie Botts!"

Nothing happened. Ron's shoulders sagged. "We need an extendable ear. Where's Fred and George when you need them?"

They stood in front of the statue, trying out different words.

"It's no good," Hermione said dejectdedly.

Suddenly there came the sound of footsteps from the end of the corridoor and they spun around. Harry's heart leaped in his chest. It was Remus Lupin, striding down the corridoor, his robes swishing about him. He had his head down and looked harried.

"Professor Lupin!" Harry said, his spirits soaring at the sight of his father's old friend. Lupin saw him and smiled, but it was a strained smile, and it sat uneasily on his face as he stopped to talk to them.

"Ah, Harry... wonderful to see you! Is, er... Dumbledore about, by any chance?" He glanced up at the inert statue.

"I think he's in there, but we can't get in, we don't know the password."

"Professor Lupin, what are you doing here?" Harry asked.

Lupin looked at him and blinked, seemed to think for a moment, and quickly said, "um, just some buisness with Dumbledore, that's all." He smiled. "I really must go in." He stepped up to the entrance and said, "cockroach cluster!" and the gargoyle hopped obediently aside, revealing the smoothly rotating spiral staircase.

Hermione darted forward and said, "wait!" But the gargoyle statue slid back into its place, staring back at her resolutely. "Cockroach cluster!" she said angrily. It didn't budge.

"We're locked out," Harry said miserably.

"That's not fair!" Hermione said, her voice rising. "Why won't they tell us what's going on? _Cockroach cluster!"_

"Give it up, Hermione."

She sagged back against the wall and made an exasperated noise. Just when they were thinking of returning to their breakfast, the statue made a grinding sound and hopped to one side. Out of the doorway stepped someone they least expected to see.

_"Dobby?"_

The little house elf jumped almost jumped out of his skin. Then, spotting Harry, a grin spread across his face. "Harry Potter! It's Harry Potter sir, Dobby hasn't seen you for such a long time!"

"Dobby... what were you doing in Dumbledore's office?"

Dobby's eyes flickered, and he glanced around suspiciously. "Dobby isn't supposed to be telling anyone sir. Dobby has been sworn to secrecy."

Harry felt like shaking him, but he somehow restrained himself. "Dobby -look, a friend of mine is in trouble. I need to know what's going on. I might be able to help. If you know something, tell me!"

The elf shivered guiltily. He seemed to be having an internal struggle with himself. Finally he looked up and said. "Harry Potter has been good to Dobby..." he gave a little moan, as if fearing punishment. "Dobby has been sent to fetch the house elves, sir. To search the school, sir."

"To search for Lily," Harry prompted. Dobby nodded. "Yes, but what else? You must know what they're talking about in there."

Dobby leaned towards him and began to speak in a conspiratorial whisper, and Harry had to crouch down to hear him. "Miss Lily is in great danger, sir. Master Dumbledore and the rest have to find her before... before it's too late..."

"Dobby, you aren't telling me anything I don't know!" Harry hissed, unconciously lowering his voice to match Dobby's. "What's this great secret you've been sworn not to tell anyone?"

Dobby's eyes widened. He kept glancing furtively from side to side. "Dobby... mustn't..."

"Oh, just tell us already!" Hermione snapped harshly looking as if she wanted to strangle him, and the elf winced. Ron stared at her.

"What happened to SPEW?" He said sarcastically.

"Dobby, come on," Harry said, ignoring them and trying to keep his voice calm. "Please tell us everything you know. We might be able to help. If you don't tell us, Lily could be hurt..."

This swung it for him. Dobby, looking ashamed as if he had already caused Lily trouble, took a huge breath and began to speak.

As the elf spoke, their faces took on a look of shock, fear and disbelief. Lily, Dobby explained, was apparently descended from an ancient and very secretive line of wizards who called themselves Memnarchs (Hermione, who had read practically every book in the library and had never heard of these, shook her head in astonishment). These wizards had powers far beyond normal levels, and also - among other things- the ability to manipulate time. As a consequence, however, they were afflicted with physical side-effects everytime they used magic. The more powerful the magic, the worse the side-effects. Lily was one of the last of these Memnarchs, and because of her extraordinary powers, was being hunted by Voldemort in the hope that he could obtain her powers and use them for his own purposes.

Harry's stomach filled with sick dread at the thought of this. If Lily was caught, and Voldemort was successful, it would mean he could return to any point in time and kill anyone he wished. In doing so, he would destroy the basic fabric of reality.

Harry's brain felt like it was going to explode with worry after absorbing this information. A long silence descended after Dobby had finished, looking as guily as if he'd just robbed a bank vault at Gringotts.

"That's what happened at her old school, isn't it? Voldemort tried to capture her."

Dobby merely shrugged, as if he did not know enough about that subject to comment.

"So what is Lupin doing here?" Harry asked desperately.

"Dumbledore asked him to come, sir, he said he needed all the help he could get and that the fate of this girl affected us all. That's what he said."

Harry nodded. He wondered if any other members of the Order of the Pheonix were here, apart from Snape, of course.

"And... so you're saying... Dumbledore thinks Lily might've... used one of these spells of hers..." Hermione said, sounding overwhelmed, "... and what?"

"Gone back to a safer place," Dobby finished cryptically.

"She's gone back _in time?"_

"That is what the Master thinks, Harry Potter sir, but he isn't sure... Now Dobby must go, lots to do Dobby has!" He looked at them nervously and then scuttled off before they could ask another question.

Ron's face was bleached of colour. "Harry. This is bad. This is really..."

"But you heard Dobby," Harry said, standing up. His knees creaked. "If she _has _used a spell, Lily should be safe. It's like when we used the Time Turner, Hermione. Lily could go back in time because she'd be safe there. Voldemort couldn't touch her."

Hermione looked at him doubtfully. "Then why is Dumbledore in such a hurry to search the school? Does he know something we don't?"

"Perhaps no-one really _knows _if Lily will be safe or not-" Hermione said, "-and they don't want to take any chances. Personally, I agree. I think it's a stupid thing to do, using a spell like that and just disappearing, letting everyone worry about you..."

"She was scared!" Harry shouted, and then, feeling stupid, he lowered his voice and struggled to be calm. "You heard what Trelawney said. Voldemort knows where she is now. He's going to try and get her."

Ron's head suddenly snapped up, and his eyes were wide and bright. "Harry! Remember on Wednesday you thought you saw her sitting down by the lake?"

Harry stared at him, and it was as if someone had turned a switch on in a darkened room inside his brain. "Maybe that's where she went..."

"But how are we going to get to her?"

Hermione stared at them as if they were both mad. "McGonagall's Time Turner!" Ron looked as though he was going to slap his forehead, and then he walked over to the gargoyle statue and began pounding on its nose with his fist. "Dumbledore! Let us in!"

Harry hesitated, and then decided the need was great enough, and joined him. _"Cockroach cluster!"_ He yelled.


	11. VERDILIUM

**Chapter Eleven**

**VERDILIUM**

To their surprise, the door opened only a few moments later, and Dumbledore stood there, looking at them sternly.

"I heard you," he said. "What is it?" McGonagall hurried down the stairs and appeared at his shoulder.

"You three are _supposed_ to be in the breakfast hall!" she said, annoyed.

"Dumbledore, we know where-"

"-saw her down by the-"

"-need to use the Time Turner!" All three of them blurted explanations at once. McGonagall flapped her arms at them.

"One at a time!" she snapped crossly.

Harry took a deep breath. "We know everything about Lily," he began, and McGonagall's eyes widened. "Dobby told us. But don't punish him, it wasn't his fault... anyway, we know where Lily is, we think she's gone back to Wednesday afternoon because I saw her down by the lake that day, and then she just disappeared, but she left her book behind... anyway, I think if I can use the Time Turner I can..."

"You're not going alone!" Hermione interrupted. "It's too dangerous!"

"Wait a minute," Dumbledore said, frustratingly calm, although his eyes were worried. "I think it best that someone else goes. Perhaps Professor Lupin will be willing..."

"She doesn't _know _Lupin," Harry said recklessly. "She knows me, I think I can convince her to come home..."

"Let Harry go."

Harry jumped, startled, and spun around. Finchley was standing behind him in the corridoor, casting a long, dark shadow across the floor. His eyes were grave and serious. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at him.

"I think it would be wisest for one of the teachers to go, Aurian," said Dumbledore resolutely.

"If she sees a teacher she'll think she's in trouble," Finchley rasped. "I think it's better for one of her friends to go." His eyes slid to Harry, and there was some kind of knowledge in them that Harry couldn't read. "She trusts Harry."

Dumbledore looked at him silently for a few moments, and then at Harry, who waited expectantly.

"You will need to use the invisibilty cloak," Dumbledore said finally. "And you must go alone- it will be harder for three students to be avoid detection."

Hermione's face fell, and so did Ron's. Harry looked guiltily at them. They always seemed to be left behind when things got dangerous. Harry thought there was a hint of anger on Ron's face.

"Harry, go and get your cloak, quickly. I want you two to return to the Great Hall and finish your breakfast.

"It's nearly over," Ron said stormily. "Why can't we wait here with the rest of you?"

Dumbledore sighed, and then shrugged. Harry glanced once more at Ron, and then sprinted off down the corridoor towards Gryffindor Tower.

He stood in Dumbledore's office, the Time Turner around his neck, and his father's old cloak draped over one arm. Finchley stood in front of him. Ron was standing nearby and Hermione was sitting in a chair beside him, her hands clutched in her lap, her face drawn and pale.

"Be careful Harry," Finchley said. "And remember, if she's not where you thought she was, come back straight away. Just spin the disc in the other direction. Ok?"

He nodded. Finchley lifted up the cloak and draped it over him. They all continued to stare at the spot, but they couldn't see him anymore. He lifted up the Time Turner beneath the cloak and beginning to count, he spun the disc in the middle.

The world dissolved into vague shades of colour, and became stretched and blurred as if he was viewing it through a window streaked with rain. He felt an airy, wooshing sound fill his head and still he counted...

_50, 51, 52, 53, 54..._

On the one previous occasion he had used the Time Turner, he had gone back only a few hours. Going back three days was a different thing entirely, and the Time Turner had clearly not been designed for such long-distance time jumps. The loud rushing sound grew louder, filling his head, until it was all he could do to conentrate on each spin, and to keep his place in his head, counting...

_67, 68,69,70,71..._

Eventually he reached the number they had all agreed on, estimated at about 4:00 on the day they had seen Lily down by the lake. He stopped spinning. The world seemed to settle back around him with a slow roar, and he staggered sideways, crashing into the side of Dumbledore's desk.

He looked around. He was still in Dumbledore's office, but now pinkish afternoon sunlight filtered in through the window, falling in a rosy pattern on the polish wooden floor. It was no longer mid-morning, but mid-afternoon. Harry breathed deeply.

He pulled the cloak tightly around him, and headed for the door.

Harry managed to move through the castle and down across the grounds unseen, although at one point he had stepped on a leaf and a girl sitting on the grass near him had jumped and looked around as if spooked. He walked more carefully. Making his way down across the grassy slope towards the lake, he veered off into the trees, and wandered down to the hidden sandy beach, upon which the rock sat baking in the heat of the sun. He stopped and stared at it. There was no sign of Lily.

Hoping he was early, and not late, he moved to a safe vanatage point at the edge of the trees bordering the sandy clearing and waited.

The minutes passed slowly, and Harry began to worry. Had he been wrong, and had Lily gone somewhere else? Was she hiding somewhere back at the school? He sank back against a tree, and then jumped away from it as if burnt, worrying that his invisibility cloak would snare on the bark and rip.

Harry's spirits were fading rapidly, and he was preparing to make the unpleasant trip back with the Time Turner, when he heard someone approaching. He held his breath.

Lily stepped into view. She didn't glance in his direction, but headed straight for the big shelf of rock, onto which she climbed and sat, looking out over the lake. She lifted her sketchbook from under her arm and opened it.

"Lily!" he said loudly.

She gave a yelp of fright and almost fell off the rock. Her book tumbled of her lap and she grabbed it, just in time, before it fell off into the sand. Her eyes darted around the clearing, searching wildly.

Then Harry remembered he was still invisble. Cursing himself, he shucked off the cloak and folded it over his arm, careful not to get it tangled in the undergrowth.

Lily saw him and she looked terrified. "Harry! What... uh... how did you..."

He ran over to her. "Listen, don't worry, I know you're not supposed to be seen... I've used the Time Turner to follow you." He picked it up and showed it to her.

"Time... what?"

"Time Turner. I'm not me, I mean... I'm the future Harry," he said, sounding very foolish to his own ears. He took a deep breath. "Look, I don't know how to explain... I know all about you, I know what.... what you are," he said carefully. Her eyes widened. "But never mind that. You have to come back with me _now_, it might not be safe here."

"This is the only place I _am_ safe!" Lily cried suddenly. "I can't go back, he knows where I am! He'll try to find me!"

Harry grabbed her shoulders firmly. "Listen! We don't know what Voldemort's capable of! He might be able to get to you here... you might even be more at risk like this! We don't know, Lily, but you have to come back. Please. Everybody's really worried," he added weakly.

Lily stared at him defiantly. She looked about to argue, when suddenly they heard the sound of faint voices.

"Oh no, " Harry said breathlessly. "It's us. Quick, you have to hide!"

To his surprise, Lily shoved him toward the trees. "Get under cover! I'll take care of myself!"

Harry threw the cloak over himself and backed slowly into the trees.

Lily had backed towards the rock, and she now pulled her wand from her robes, and pointed it at herself.

"Hey, isn't that Lily?" Harry heard himself say from somewhere off to his left. In the the next instant she had vanished.

He looked around as himself, Ron and Hermione entered stage left and felt a weird sense of déjà vu. He saw himself step towards the rock and look around, eyes slipping straight over the spot where his future self now stood, hunching over underneath the cloak as if he could make himself even more invisble.

At the point where the pencil Lily had dropped on the rock rolled off onto the ground, Harry realizes she must have bumped it.

He watched as their conversation was replayed.

"What's that?" -Hermione.

"Wow, those're _brilliant! _Are there any of me in there?_"_ -Ron.

"This is definitely Lily's book." -Hermione.

Harry willed them to hurry up and leave so he could talk to Lily, and get her back to safety. Finally Hermione pointed at the book and suggested that they go back. The three of them turned and trudged up the beach and out of sight under the cover of the trees.

Harry let his breath out in a rush. He watched the place where they had left, trying to gauge how far away they were, and after a few minutes it seemed safe to come out. He pulled the cloak up over his head and ran over to the rock.

"Lily!" he hissed.

There was a muffled word, which Harry couldn't understand, and then Lily winked back into sight. She was standing beside the rock, apparently afraid to move for fear of them hearing her footsteps. She pocketed her wand and looked back at Harry.

"Are you going to come with me now?" Harry said angrily. "Or do you want someone else to turn up?"

Harry later regretted these words. As if on cue, they both heard a windy, sucking noise from the other side of the lake. They both turned. And Harry felt as if someone had just poured a bucket of freezing water all over him.

Across the water, on the far side of the lake, several tall, dark shapes were emerging from the trees. They didn't stop at the water's edge but began gliding over it, and Harry knew instantly what they were.

_Dementors._ More of them appeared from the forest, and Harry's shock-stricken brain guessed there were about twelve. Instinctively, and fighting off a paralysis of fear, he fumbled for the Time Turner. Lily glanced at him, terrified, and shouted, "no! There's no time!"

The dementors were gliding across the lake with chilling speed. They were already halfway to Lily and Harry. Harry's limbs felt like jelly... he couldn't breathe properly... fear tightened across his chest like a straight-jacket and he couldn't move. He could see the dark folds of their cloaks rippling as they streamed towards him, and the gaping black hole where their faces should have been... and he thought faintly, _we're going to die._

And it was as this thought flashed through his mind and as the first of the dementors sailed up the sandy beach towards him that Lily suddenly ran forward and hurled herself at him, throwing both her arms around his neck.

Harry's half-hysterical mind thought irrationally that she was going to kiss him, but then she screamed against his shoulder, _"hold on to me! Quick!"_

Unthinking, Harry obeyed. He laced his arms acround her back and stared at the approaching dementor, who was now so close he could smell the rancid air seeping out from under the folds of its robe. He held on to Lily and waited for the end.

A second later a shout rang out, so loud it hurt his head, and it echoed across the lake and bounced off the uncaring trees and seemed to come back at him a thousandfold...

"VERDILIUM!"

There was a thick, rushing, airy sound and the ground seemed to evaporate from under Harry's feet. He felt the air rushing past him and he scrunched his eyes shut, unable to look at the dizzying patterns of colour that flashed in front of them. The sound filled his whole head. It was as if he was standing under a giant waterfall.

_ffsssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh_...

Then solid ground smacked into his face. Hard stones bit into his cheek and his glasses slipped off his face and skidded off. He had the nauseating sensation that the whole world had flipped over... and then he realized he was now lying on the ground, but without remembering how he got there. Dizzily, he pushed himself up on his hands, and then sat up. The world around him was dark. Through his blurred vision he recognized that they are in the same place, still on the little stretch of beach. The lake stretched silently out before him like a dark, flat jewel, the moonlight glinting off ripples in its surface. He could hear it lapping gently. There was a soft breeze blowing on his face. Harry reached his hand out, searching for his glasses. Someone grabbed his hand and pressed them into it.

He put them on and looked up through a star-shaped crack in the lense to see Lily, sitting beside him and looking numb.

"Sorry about that," she said shakily. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he replied in a cracked voice.

"I used a spell. We should be in the present now. But..." she looked around at the dark trees. "I might have gone a bit too far."

Harry nodded, remembering it was morning when he had left. He got unsteadily to his feet, and his eyes quickly scanned the dark edges of the trees, searching for any sign of the dementors.

"They can't follow us, can they?" he asked uncertainly.

"I don't think so... Harry, I'm really sorry," she said, brushing hair out of her face with a trembling hand. "I didn't think they could get to me there... I went to that place so many times..." her eyes watered. "I put you all in danger."

"Forget it," he said gently. And suddenly she doubled up, leaning over her knees, and coughed violently. He took a concerned step toward her, then, seeing her straighten up, he stopped.

"I'm... alright," she said unconvincingly, and wiped her mouth. "Not supposed to... use spells... so powerful," she sagged back onto the ground. "Just need to rest for a bit."

Harry shifted on his feet awkwardly, and, still feeling mildly sick himself, and then sat on the edge of the rock and watched her silently.

The minutes ticked by. Harry started to wonder what Hermione and Ron were doing. Probably in bed. He looked out over the black water. A dark feeling began to eat at him.

"Lily, how did the dementors find you? How did they get into Hogwarts?"

She wiped her mouth again and glanced at him nervously. "I don't know." Harry looked again at the dark trees, and the thick, tall trunks now seemed to be leering at him. The twisted knots of bark became sinister eyes.

"I think we should go back now."

Lily nodded and got to her feet reluctantly, still shaking. Harry held onto her arm for support. "Ready?" he said. They began to walk up the beach. Over the tops of the trees, lights twinkled from the windows of Hogwarts, a welcome beacon against the black and unforgiving darkness.


	12. Memory and Loss

**Chapter Twelve**

**Memory and Loss**

Harry and Lily emerged from the cover of the trees and began making their way up the long slop towards the castle, whose light flickered brightly, urging them on. On occasion Lily stumbled, but she righted herself quickly, and insisted she could walk without help. Harry kept shooting nervous glances back at the trees and the lake. He couldn't help the unsettling feeling that they weren't safe here, that they wouldn't be safe until they were inside the castle. They reached the stone steps leading up to the huge front door. Harry chanced one last look behind him, and his blood seemed to slowly freeze inside his veins.

Dementors were pouring from the forest and sweeping up the long verge of grass towards the castle, in front of which Harry and Lily stood. Lily suddenly saw the dementors and screamed.

This broke Harry's paralysis. He wrenched open the massive wooden door and leaped through it, pulling Lily with him. He threw himself against it, and his shoulder screamed with pain, but he grimly pushed it closed. Lily backed out into the middle of the huge hall and Harry ran to stand beside her. His mind was whirling. How did they get here? Did they somehow have the ability to move through time? If so, why didn't they just go back into the past and kill him and Lily? Or were these dementors arriving from the present? His heart hammered in his throat. Lily pressed up close to him and they stood there in the moonlight, eyes locked on the door. Neither could speak. Harry's throat was constricted and he found it hard to breathe. The air tasted sour in his mouth and he wondered if it was just fear driving his imagination, or whether they were so close now that he could _taste their smell on the air..._

The door creaked and swung inwards. Lily gasped as a skeletal hand curled around it, pushing it open further, and then a dementor glided through, eerily silent, and other dark shapes appeared behind it. They were now trapped. There was nowhere to run in the castle without being cornered. Harry took a step backward, and so did Lily.

Now Harry took out his wand. His hand shook as he pointed it straight at the nearest dementor -more were now surging in through the half-open door- and shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A thin wisp of bluish-silver light flared on the end of Harry's wand, seemed to stretch out feebly, and then vanished. He thought, _come on, you have to work now, you have to..._ "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Again, that wisp of light flicked out and then faded. The nearest dementor was now about ten feet away. Harry's eyelids felt too heavy- he wanted to curl up and go to sleep. The dementor glided slowly, incessantly forward.

"Harry!" Lily shouted. She seemed to be across the other side of the room... no, miles away... she was in a different time zone. He was frozen to the spot, unable to move. Harry tried to think of his mother and father. He tried to summon a happy memory, but it was no good, all he felt was coldness, icy air all around him and the dementor getting closer. "Expecto... Patro..." He realized he could hear his parents voices ringing in his head.

_"Run, Lily!"_ (Lily?) His confused mind thought in a detached kind of way. (Which Lily? Is that my mother or the Lily who is here with me now?)

_"I won't let you hurt him!"_

_"Lily get away, run!" _(Ah. My mother), he thought crazily.

_"HARRY!"_

The voices were screams now. He clapped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes, and didn't see the dementor leaning over him, enveloping him in its sickening folds of air, its face only inches from his own. Then Harry opened his eyes and looked into the dementor's face, and his mind went blank.

_**"NO! ILUVIUS MORI, YOU CREEP, GET AWAY FROM HIM! ILUVIUS MORI!!!"**_

The dementor in front of Harry seemed to pause, shrink back slightly, and then Harry watched, dumbstruck, as its robes turned grey and cracked, and then it simply disintegrated right in front of him, sending up a choking cloud of ash. Harry suddenly found himself able to move, and the sudden return of momentum sent him crashing backwards onto the floor. He landed on his back.

He raised his head just in time to see the rest of the dementors pause in their tracks as if hitting an invisible barrier, then they, too, began to turn grey and cracks appeared in their robes as if they were aging centuries before his eyes, and then as one they exploded, a thick grey cloud of choking ash filling the room. Harry's head hit the floor again and he stared up at the ceiling dazedly, and drifted out of consciousness.

Someone was holding him by the shoulders. He opened his eyes, and with no surprise at all, saw that it was Dumbledore. His long white beard was hanging down on Harry's chest.

"Harry, are you alright!?" Someone said behind him, and Harry recognized Hermione's voice. She sounded hysterical.

"Yeah..." he said dimly. His head felt like someone had loaded it with firecrackers and set them off inside his skull. He sat up slowly. "Lily... where's..."

"She's here," someone else said in a flat voice. It had the quality of someone who had become unhinged.

Harry turned his head. Behind Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione were standing, as was McGonagall, Lupin and Snape. Lily was lying on the floor a few feet away. Finchley was crouched next to her, and his face was very white. In the moonlight he looked like a ghost.

"She's dead."

Harry stared at him, a small frown on his face, and thought he had misheard. "But she..." he stopped. Looking at Lily's face, his heart seemed freeze over, and a deep, gaping chasm opened up in his stomach.

Lily's eyes were closed, and her face was very pale and still. There was a tiny rill of blood running from one corner of her mouth, down the side of her cheek, where below that he saw small drops of it on the floor. Her wand was in her hand, holding it so tightly that her knuckles were white. Harry blinked.

"She cast a spell," he said dully. "She cast a spell and killed the dementors." Looking around, he could still see that the floor was covered in a thick scattering of ash, piles of it in the places where the dementors had stood. He had some of it on his robes, and on his face. He wiped his mouth convulsively.

"We got here as quickly as we could," Dumbledore said softly. "But it was too late to save her."

"STUPID GIRL!" Finchley shouted suddenly, his voice choked with tears, and they all jumped. "I warned her never to use spells so powerful! She _promised_ me she wouldn't!"

"She saved my life," Harry said flatly. He still felt numb and shocked, and cold all over, and now anger and grief was boiling up inside him. "If it wasn't for her I'd be dead!"

"Harry..." McGonagall said, stepping forward as if to console him. Her voice shook. "You need to be calm. I know a lot has happened to you in the last few years..."

"You don't know anything!" He shouted at her recklessly. "You're all probably glad she's dead and that Voldemort can't get hold of her powers and use them against you!"

McGonagall stared at him, white-faced. Aurian was glaring at Harry. Finally it was just too much. Harry couldn't stand them all staring at him, and he ran towards the door.

"Harry, please wait!" Dumbledore called after him, but he ignored it and bolted through the door out into the dark night.

He didn't have any clear idea of where he was going, and he didn't care. As long as it was away from the school, away from the girl lying dead on the floor who looked as if she could have been sleeping if it wasn't for the trickle of blood running down from her mouth, and the scattered piles of ash all around her...

He ran towards the forest. He ran past Hagrid's hut, and down toward the dark woods. The trees enveloped him in their leafy, cathedral-like vaulted passageways, and he ran through them until he felt a sharp pain stabbing into his side, and he leaned over, panting.

Sick grief, anger, and hatred for Voldemort and his dementors boiled through his veins. He thought of all the people he had known that Voldemort had killed. His mother. His father. Sirius. Cedric Diggory. Now Lily.

It was too much. He wanted to shout and scream but he couldn't, not this time. He simply had no energy left. He slid to his knees and began to cry silently, the tears slipping down beneath his cracked lenses and clearing tracks through the ash on his face. He picked up a leaf and crushed it beneath his hand, thinking, _Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort..._with a kind of impotent hatred.

He cried for a long time, and when it was over, he raised his head and looked around blurrily. He realized he had come to the place where Sirius had been attacked by the dementors when Harry was fourteen, and he was now sitting only a few feet away from the place Sirius had been lying. He realized Voldemort had destroyed almost everything he had ever cared about. It had started with his mother and father, and it had ended now, with Lily.

He had not known her very well but in time, they might have been good friends... in time, they might have grown close...

And he suddenly thought of himself walking up to Voldemort, pointing his wand at his face and saying, "avada kedavra, you bastard." And he thought of Voldemort's face twisting in fear and loathing, and then the spell hitting him and his screams splitting the air as he died, and how good it felt to have won, for it to finally be over.

A chill of cold air caressed the back of his neck and he shivered. He realized how useless this dream was. He was powerless to fight Voldemort, how could he have ever thought otherwise? He was just a boy. Voldemort was going to kill him, and kill everyone he loved, and Voldemort was going to win.

_The question, _Harry's rational mind thought with a kind of maddening sensibility, _is what you're going to do about that. Voldemort is going to win, ok. But how do feel about that? Are you going to let him? Are you just gong to sit by and do nothing and let him beat you?_

The answer, of course, was no. It didn't hit Harry with the speed of light. It didn't come in a blaze of fanfare, it just flickered through his mind and then left. He had drawn his hands into fists and his nails bit into his flesh, hurting him. He hardly felt it. He was gathering his courage, his will -preparing himself. For what, he didn't know. But he was going to be ready when Voldemort came, and he was going to go down fighting.

He climbed through the portrait hole and into the common room, and looked up to see Hermione and Ron huddled in front of the fire, which was almost burnt out. Hermione's head snapped up and she gasped, and leaped up from her chair.

_"Harry!"_ she gasped, the tracks of tears still shining wetly on her face, though she was no longer crying. "We... we were so worried..." her voice faltered and she fell silent. Ron had also risen out of his chair and was looking at Harry with trepidation.

"Did you... speak to Dumbledore?" Hermione asked timidly.

"No," Harry said dully. "I didn't see anyone. They must've all gone."

"Yes, they... moved her... and cleaned up the mess..." Hermione said awkwardly. "Dumbledore will probably come and see you tomorrow. You won't have to explain anything-" she added quickly, with a nervous look at Harry's face, "-Dumbledore guessed what happened. He probably wants to make sure you're ok, though."

"Right." An awkward silence fell. Finally Harry looked up and said , "I'm going to bed."

Hermione gave him a concerned look ."Oh, al-alright. Um, look... Harry... are you sure you're ok? About Lily?"

Harry could hear his blood pounding in his ears, and wondered if he was going to get angry again, but only a terrible weariness overcame him. "Yeah. I'm ok."

Hermione continued to stare at him doubtfully. The anger surfaced. "Well what do you want me to say? Am I supposed to spill my guts to you every time someone I know dies?" his voice rose.

Hermione winced. "No! I... that's not what I meant... I just... was worried, that's all."

"Yeah. People do care about you Harry, even if you think they don't," Ron said bitterly. Harry looked at him, shocked. Ron stared into the fire. There was a long, uncomfortable silence which seemed to stretch on endlessly. Then Harry made a move towards the stairs.

"I'm going to bed," he said stonily.

"Fine," Ron snapped. "We've only been waiting up all night to see if you're alright. Why should you want to talk to us?"

Harry looked at him wearily. "Ron, I don't want to fight."

"Neither do I!"

"Then stop it, both of you!" Hermione cried. Her eyes had started to overflow and she brushed at them, annoyed. "I hate it when you're like this!" Suddenly she lost control of herself and collapsed back into her chair, sobbing. Harry and Ron both stared at her numbly. Finally Ron took a step towards her.

"Hermione..."

"No! Not until you sort it out!" she cried into her hands. The words came out muffled.

Harry glanced at Ron awkwardly. He thought back to the fight they had had two years ago, and how horrible his life had been without Ron. He didn't want to go back to that again.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. Ron stood in silence for a few moments.

"So am I."

"Good," Hermione said, wiping her eyes. They looked puffy and raw. Harry felt a rush of sympathy for her, and guilty about the way he had spoken. He walked over to the arm of her chair and sat on it.

"I'm sorry about everything. Everytime I... Every time something like this happens, I blame people. I have to blame someone. I'm sorry if I keep shutting you out. It's just... it's... hard to talk about."

Ron was staring at him, looking crestfallen. Hermione was looking at Harry with rapt and sincere attention. "That's alright, Harry," she said gently. "But don't forget we're you're friends- we're on _your_ side... so don't push us away, ok?"

Harry nodded mutely. Hermione reached up and took his hand in both of hers. Ron looked on sadly. Then he came over and sat on Hermione's other side, and put a hand on her shoulder. He and Harry looked at each other.The three of them sat like that for a long time.

Finally Harry stood up and announced that he was going to bed for the third time that evening, and Ron said he would, too. Hermione told them both goodnight and headed off in the direction of the girl's dormitory.

Ron and Harry climbed into bed silently, their friendship mended, and the silence hanging between them was an understanding one.

The next morning Dumbledore called Harry into his office. The door was open when he arrived, and Finchley was standing near Dumbledore's desk, a sad, but composed look on his face. Dumbledore himself stood up as Harry entered.

"Harry. Professor Finchley would like to... well, I'll let you speak, Aurian," Dumbledore said rather awkwardly, and sat back down.

Finchley looked at Harry. "Harry, I just wanted to say... I'm sorry about those things I said last night. Lily was a good girl. I... I loved her very much." His face tightened and Harry looked away, feeling his grief resurface. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I don't blame Lily for what she did. I just wanted you to know that," Finchley said more firmly, mastering his emotions. He continued to look at Harry. "And I wanted to thank you. For being such a good friend to her. She lost a lot of friends at her old school. I was afraid she would try to distance herself, but..." he gave a brief, sad smile. "You, Hermione and Ron helped her overcome that. Thank you."

There was a long pause. Realizing Finchley was finished, Harry looked up again.

"Are you going to keep teaching here?"

Finchley blinked, surprised by the question, and gave Harry another smile. "If Dumbledore will have me, of course."

Dumbledore nodded needlessly, and there was an unspoken friendship in the air between them.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save Lily." Harry said suddenly. Finchley's face fell as if he had expected this, and he favoured Harry with a look of deep sincerity.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this, Harry," he said gently. Harry stared intensely at his shoes and was silent.

After a minute Dumbledore leaned forward and said, "Harry, I want you to understand. There are many things we don't know about last night. How the dementors got into Hogwarts, for instance. How they found out where Lily was, and so quickly..." he paused, glancing concernedly at Finchley. "But we will take every measure to ensure that this _does not happen again._" He leaned back. "You have shown immense courage, many times while at this school, and you did a brave and valiant thing last night. No-one here thinks otherwise. No-one thinks ill of you. Do you understand that?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore and nodded. His heart felt too heavy.

"Good." His face softened. "Now, if there is nothing you wish to ask me, you may go back to your friends. I'm sure they're waiting for you."

Harry nodded, glanced once more at Finchley, and then hurried out the door and down the spiral staircase, heading for the Great Hall where he knew Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. On the way he happened to pass the corridor where he had first seen Lily. Sunlight was again streaming through it, falling into patterns on the polished floor. He stopped and stared longingly up the hallway at the window. A stream of sunlight winked off one of the panes, and Harry imagined he could almost see Lily's blonde hair glowing in the morning light. Tears burned in his eyes but he swallowed and wiped them quickly, aware that someone might come along and see him. With a last glance at the window he hurried around the corner and down the Grand Staircase, eager to see his friends again, and to leave that ghostly image far behind.


End file.
